Legacy (HobbitLotR Fan-fiction)
by Elessar181
Summary: The line of Frerin, brother to the great Thorin Oakenshield, mysteriously vanished after his son seemingly bore no son. We follow the dwarf Kyni, in search of the secrets of his past, whilst an old enemy of Erebor...
1. Chapter 1 Reminiscence

Chapter 1. Reminiscence

"Kyni... we need to talk."

The hammering of metal upon metal stopped. Kyni had been dreading hearing those fateful words for several long years now. Ever since he was old enough to form a crude piece of iron upon an anvil, he knew this talk would come. He put the hammer down and wiped the sweat from his forehead.

"Yes, Father, what is it?"

"Come with me, I think your mother should be present for this." He turned around and left the heated forge, expecting Kyni to follow in his wake. Kyni let out a long breath, steeling himself, before hobbling out after him.

They walked through the winding streets of Dale together, in silence. Crowds bustled around them. The streets were always packed nowadays, ever since the great dragon Smaug had been struck down by the legendary Bard and Dáin had taken up his cousin's throne. The wealth of Dale was now evident, even to a stranger, if he were to gaze at the buildings that lined the streets. Buildings two storeys high sat side by side, no longer in ruins like it had been after the Coming of Smaug. Instead, it more resembled the time of prosperity before the dragon had ever terrorised the town. Everyone knew the tale of Smaug's Coming: how Bard, the finest marksman in Dale had mortally wounded the dragon, piercing the one place where Smaug had been missing a scale - above his left breast. Bard had long since departed this life, yet the line of Girion still ran strong in Dale. Bard's descendant, Bard the Second, still ruled Dale and its people. Kyni had grown up with Bard II and had even briefly know his father, Brand. He had been there the day Brand the Brave had fallen.

Kyni and his father passed the worn statue of Brand the King, alongside the great dwarven King Dáin II Ironfoot. Both had perished at the doors of Erebor, where all the townsfolk of Dale had taken refuge during the Battle for Dale. Their king, Brand, led a desperate attack against a formidable force to no avail. He was slain upon the fields where, nearly 200 years ago, the free people of Middle-earth had defeated goblins in the Battle of the Five Armies. Dáin was distraught at the loss of his dear friend and left the safety of his halls, leaving his son, Thorin III Stonehelm, in charge. Dáin entered the fray outside and charged the orc ranks. He stood upon the ground next to Brand and defended his body. With his life, for he was soon overwhelmed.

Yet none of the people of Dale forgot his sacrifice. A statue of the two noble kings had been erected in memory of them. Kyni always felt a great swell of pride whenever he passed the statue. Dwarfs were not an uncommon sight within Dale; they travelled from Erebor to take part in the great markets that Dale was known for. Yet Kyni was, as far as he knew, the only Dwarf who lived permanently in the city. He was given, at the mere age of two, to the people of Dale. Only a select few in the town know why, Kyni's foster parents being some of them. He was determined to find out why he had been abandoned by his own race, why he had been taken in by the people of Dale and treated as their own.

And one day soon, he would find out.


	2. Chapter 2 An Inkling of Truth

Chapter 2. An Inkling of Truth

Kyni and his father arrived back at their abode just as the sun was beginning to set.

"Freda, we're home!" called Kyni's father to the house at large. The house in question was of moderate size, at least, compared to some of the houses within Dale. Kyni's dwarfish skill at forgery had helped to elevate the family to more comfortable living arrangements. Despite the house being only one floor, unlike the others with at least two floors which surrounded their house, it extended backwards, connecting with the very walls of Laketown. Entering through the main door, Kyni walked into a spacious room which connected onto the living room; comprising of a large, wooden bench and an armchair. Sitting in this armchair, was Kyni's mother, Freda.

She looked up at him as he entered and gave him a radiant smile. "Welcome home, Kyni. Successful day at the forge?"

"Plenty of work, yes. Managed to sell a few of my swords and even shoed a party of horses," replied Kyni.

Freda smiled at him again but did not reply. Instead, she returned her attention to what she was doing. Kyni looked to see what it was and noticed that she was in the middle of stitching pieces of leather together. He was about to ask what she was making before his father walked in.

"Right, son. We need this talk." There was an awkward silence, as Kyni waited for his explanation,"erm, Freda. Why don't you explain?" Kyni's father continued gruffly.

"Oh, Elboran, you've never been one with words," scolded Freda. She then sighed. "Very well, Kyni. It looks like it's my job to explain. Take a seat, this may be a lot to process."

Freda waited until Kyni sat down upon the bench, whilst Elboran stood awkwardly, leaning upon it. She glared at him, before turning her attention back to Kyni and smiled.

"As I am sure you have gathered, you are not our son. We adopted you." Kyni's face was a mask, displaying no emotion. Freda continued. "You were merely two years old when you were brought to Dale. Two dwarves came bearing you to our gates. There, they demanded a meeting with our king, Brand. They were taken to the Great Hall and took audience with the king. We were all there, Kyni. We all heard what they said. Are you sure you want to hear this?"

Kyni nodded and replied. "Yes, mother."

"Very well. They declared themselves as Geise and Hrafen, being wards of Frór, of the line of Durin. This was met by many whisperings as to why they were here. They continued, stating that they bore the bastard-son of Frór within their hands, and that their Lord could not bear to look upon the child anymore. Therefore, he had ordered them to take his child, and bestow him upon the people of Dale." Freda carefully examined Kyni. She thought she saw a look of understanding pass behind his eyes. "You know now don't you, Kyni?" she murmured, locking eyes with him.

"I think... Are you saying that... I am the bastard-son of Frór?" asked Kyni, a sliver of anger expressed within his voice.

"Yes, son. That is what I am saying. Hrafen asked if anyone would be willing to take the burden upon themselves, and raise you as their own. Your father and I had been trying for a child for a long time, to no avail. It was like a gift from Manwë himself. We offered ourselves and that was it. He- no, _you_ , were ours."

Kyni took a deep breath to calm himself. He was confused. And he was angry. So this was the reason for his abandonment; his father had been a great Dwarfish-lord and had had an affair, leaving him with no birthmother. He began to shake, as his hands curled into fists.

"Kyni, I know it's a lot to take in. But remember, we love you. No matter what, we are still your parents," said Freda softly. "Right, Elboran?"

Elboran cleared his throat."Uh, yes. Yes Kyni, you are our son."

There was a long silence. Kyni uncurled his fists and moved his fingertips up against his lips, as he always did when thinking. His parents surveyed him with wary apprehension. Finally, he spoke.

"Who is Frór? He is of the line of Durin, yes, but where does his lineage lay?"

"Frór was the son of Frerin, who was brother to Thorin Oakenshield. You see, Kyni? You are of noble birth."

Another silence followed, where Kyni contemplated his mother's words.

"I think..." started Kyni. "I think I must find my father. Where is he?"

"He's dead, Kyni," said Freda. "he died several years after you were brought to us."

"How did he die?" whispered Kyni.

"We do not know. Hrafen came and sought us out one night and gave us the news. He did not state how or why. He just thought it was vital that we knew. Then, he left," replied Freda. "I'm sorry Kyni for not telling you sooner. We had to wait until you were old enough, by order of Hrafen."

"You didn't think I had a right to know before?" anger flared in Kyni's eyes now. "All this time, knowing I was different, yet not knowing why or how. Why didn't you tell me?"

"Now listen son," answered Elboran. "Your mother and I only did what was needed to be done. We were told that when you reached 40, then you would be allowed to know. There's no use getting angry with us, go up to the Mountain if you want and give them a piece of your mind."

"Elboran!"

"Sorry, Freda, but maybe it's for the best. After all, keeping him cooped up with us is not going to help, is it?"

Kyni was lost in thought again. Maybe he should venture to the Erebor. Maybe there he'd get some real answers. Maybe he'd find out who is mother was.

"I'm going to do it," he said.

"Do what, Kyni?" asked Freda tentatively.

"I'm going to go to the Mountain and I'm going to find out about my father," said Kyni.

"Are you sure? They not be overly welcoming, those dwarves in the Mountain," said his mother.

"I am sure. As dad said, staying here will not solve anything. I must go and confront my kinsmen," stated Kyni.

"Very well, if you're sure. When will you go?"

"Tomorrow. No point in delaying," said Kyni.

"Okay, son," Answered Elboran, before Freda had a chance got up to leave.

"Kyni?" said his mother. He turned around to face her. "We love you. Don't forget that."

Kyni only nodded, a trace of a smile flickering across his face, before he left the room. Freda and Elboran turned to look at each other.

"Do you think we're doing the right thing?" asked Freda quietly.

"Yes, my dear. He has to embrace his past one day, so why not now?"

"I hope you're right. For his sake."


	3. Chapter 3 Dreams

Chapter 3. Dreams

 _Kyni smelt the burning before he saw it. The pungent smell came wafting down the halls of stone, towards where Kyni stood. He was fully armoured, with a sword and shield in each hand respectively. He was aware that he was shaking, yet he was determined. The smell grew ever more empowering. The ground began to shake beneath him, in the slow steady rhythm of footsteps, one after the other. Thump, thump, thump went the ground, and thump, thump, thump went Kyni's heart. He could now see smoke curling around the edges of the small doorframe that was the entrance to the hall where he stood, alone. And trapped._

 _The smoke swirled around him, partially blinding him. He coughed, his eyes beginning to water. The heat was now becoming stifling and Kyni wiped his brow with the back of his padded gauntlet. The thumping of both heart and ground were getting louder. Kyni gripped his sword tighter, as the footsteps finally ceased. There was great exhale of air and another plume of smoke wove its way into the hall. There was a snarl and Kyni dropped his sword. An eye, a large eye, mostly yellow except for a diagonal black slit of an iris, had appeared in the doorframe. A deep, booming voice spoke._

 _"Ahh, how quaint. I have come for my vengeance."_

 _The eye narrowed, before being replaced by a mouth. Kyni saw an array of sharpened yellowing teeth, before the mouth opened and a warm glow was seen deep in the throat. Kyni let out a shout of fear, yet the sound was soon drowned out by an echoing roar unlike any other. Then, he was engulfed by flame._

Kyni awoke, a cold sweat covering his body. He sat up, panting, his heart racing. He threw the covers off him, his chest shining in the light of the moon coming through the window. He crossed to it and flung it open. He took in a long deep breath, smelling the fresh, clean air of Dale. Yet he could still remember the smell of smoke. He could still taste the fear. And he could still see the eye. He shuddered, suddenly cold. He closed the window and climbed back into his bed. Yet he could not sleep. His nightmare still haunted him. Though he had not seen one before, he knew what the creature had been.

A dragon.


	4. Chapter 4 Fond Farewell

Chapter 4. Fond Farewell

The yellow-tinted sky of dawn woke Kyni from his doze, his nightmare completely forgotten. He stretched and got out of his bed. He dressed quickly, pulling on his burgundy doublet - he had to make an impression. He left his room and journeyed through the living room to the kitchen. There, he saw his mother busying herself cooking. The smell of cooked sausage wafted its way towards his nostrils and his stomach gave out a low growl in reply. Freda turned at the sound and smiled at him.

"Good morning, Kyni. Sleep well? I'm currently cooking tomatoes, sausages and nice crispy bacon if you want some."

"Aye, that'll about do, thank you," replied Kyni, pulling a chair out and sitting at the table. Freda brought over his food and placed it upon his plate, where Kyni immediately ravished the plate without pause. Soon, he was scraping the last remnants of food across his plate. All the while, his mother watched him, concerned. Kyni pushed the plate away and spoke.

"That was lovely, thank you."

"You're welcome," she replied, "Kyni. Are you sure about this?"

"About what?" said Kyni, bewildered.

"About going up to the mountain. About digging around and finding out about your past. The past can hurt."

Kyni put a hand upon his mother's and looked into her eyes. "Yes. I am sure."

"But-"

"Look," interrupted Kyni. "I know you are only thinking about me and my wellbeing. But I think I need to do this. For too long, this idea that I am different and unwanted has plagued me. Now I have the chance to find out the truth."

Freda studied Kyni's face for a while. She saw how set he was upon this and knew that it was a lost cause.

"Okay," she relented. "At least take this with you."

She slipped her hand away from Kyni's and went into the living room. She came back holding something in her hand. "Here, take it."

She passed it to Kyni and he saw that it was a beautifully decorated belt and dagger sheath. It was made of leather, with golden silk woven into it. Stitched along the length the sheath, were the words _'A Lord of Stone'_.

"It's beautiful," whispered Kyni. "but I have no dagger for it."

"I wouldn't say that, son," came a gruff voice from the doorway. Kyni turned around in his seat and saw his father framed in the doorway.

Elboran walked into the room and grinned. In his hand, he was holding an ornate dagger.

"I know it's not of Dwarfish-quality, but it's the best blade I've ever made."

He handed it to Kyni, who rotated the dagger in his hand. It had streaks of gold laced through the handle, as well as a small pommel with what looked like a sapphire fashioned into the hilt.

"They're both beautiful," said Kyni, sliding the blade into its sheath. It fit perfectly. "Thank you."

Both of his parents smiled back at him.

A silence followed where none of them knew what to say.

"Well, erm, you'd best get packing, oughtn't you, lad?" said Elboran, after several more seconds of awkward silence.

"Yes, I'd best do that."

Kyni got up to leave. On his way out though, he hugged both his parents.

"Thank you," he whispered again, before navigating his way through the rooms to prepare himself for the journey ahead of him.


	5. Chapter 5 Over Rock and Under Tree

Chapter 5. Over rock and Under Tree

Once packed and all kitted out, Kyni finally left his house midway through the afternoon. His parents decided to accompany him to the gate. They engaged each other in the mindless babble that people sometimes defer to in times of emotional distress.

Arriving at the gate, Kyni said a fond farewell to both his parents. His mother burst into tears. Kyni gave her another hug and smiled, before turning around and walking out through the gate. Kyni's father came over and comforted her.

"It's alright, Freda. He'll be back soo," he said, reassuringly.

In order to get to the Lonely Mountain, Kyni knew he had to go south and then turn west where the foot of the mountain grew thin enough. This meant journeying through the very edge of Mirkwood Forest. Kyni plodded on in fairly high spirits, munching upon some pine nuts as he went. The sun was high in the sky, dotted with thin, wispy clouds here and there. The plain on which Kyni walked was rocky yet flat. In the far distance, he could just about make out a clump of trees, signalling the beginning of Mirkwood. The Elves of Mirkwood had grown increasingly friendly since Dáin had indirectly given them what they most treasured: the emeralds of Girion. There were no more quarrels among Men, Dwarves and Elves. Each treated the other with the respect they deserved. They were united as one.

Kyni mused upon this as he walked. He never understood the fascination both Elves and Dwarves had for jewels. Despite being a Dwarf, he had been raised as a Man of Dale and therefore never had much interest. He knew that his kinsmen were easily seduced by gold. The tales of the Dragon Sickness still circulated around. Everyone knew of how Thrór's greed for gold had grown too fierce and a sickness had grown within him. Kyni vowed that he would never succumb to the same sickness.

The sun was nearly at its highest point when Kyni finally reached the edge of the forest. The shadow that had once plagued Mirkwood had been lifted, and the trees blossomed, showering the floor with brown and golden leaves. Interspersed among the common trees were the mellyrn trees; the Elves' favourite kind. Rarely did they grow outside of Lórien, yet the Elven-king had been gifted a clutch of seeds by the Lady Galadriel. Kyni was admiring the golden bloom, when a cloud travelled across the sky and blocked the sun. The golden colour of the mellyrn tree's leaves darkened and no longer mesmerised Kyni. He turned to glare up at the sun and then, completely out of the blue, a voice came down to him among the gentle breeze.

"Don't. Move."

Kyni froze. He slowly turned his head, eyes darting around, looking for whoever had spoken. He could see no one. He suddenly heard the unmistakeable sound of the string of a bow being drawn back. _This is it_ , thought Kyni. He closed his eyes and waited, his breathe bated.

There was a twang, and Kyni felt the wind around him ripple. He heard a thud and a squeal from behind him. He whirled around and saw an arrow protruding from the hide of a simple, white oxen.

"Ha! Now _there's_ a good hunt!"

Kyni turned around again. He saw a figure nimbly jump down from a slender branches of a mallorn tree. It landed in a crouched position and at that moment, the cloud decided that it was time to move on and drifted away from the sun. The figure stood up and Kyni's mouth dropped open. The sun blazed off of the figure: a She-Elf.

She had beautiful golden hair, with one streak of the purest silver partially covering her right eye. Her big, green eyes were glittering with mirth as she studied Kyni.

"I hope I didn't scare you. I couldn't risk it running away."

"I- Yea- It's fine," Kyni stammered. He was still staring at the She-Elf, unable to tear his eyes away. He finally pulled himself together and turned towards the creature. "What is it? I've never seen one before."

"That, is a Kine of Araw. They make birth in the realm of Gondor, which is to the South if you didn't know."

"I know where Gondor is," said Kyni defensively.

The She-elf smirked, before turning to the slain creature. "I have no idea how it got here. I saw it earlier and knew that I couldn't pass up this opportunity. There's good meat of them."

"I thought Elves were vegetarians?" said Kyni with smugness, demonstrating his knowledge of Elves.

"You know nothing, Dwarf. Our kin in Rivendell do not eat meat. We however, gain most of our food from hunting."

"Oh... Well, it was a good shot."

"Thank you very much. I could have easily killed you instead if you'd wanted," replied the Elf, the twinkle returning to her eyes.

"I would've liked to see you try," retorted Kyni, sounding fiercer than he meant to.

"Really now?" She said. Quick as a flash, she'd notched another arrow in her bow and aimed it at Kyni. There was a silence, before Kyni eventually spoke.

"Oh," he said.

"I thought as much," Smirked the Elf. "What's your name anyway, Dwarf?"

"My name is Kyni. Kyni of Dale."

"Nice to meet you, Kyni. I'm Idríl. Idríl of Mirkwood," she lowered the bow, and smiled. "So, what brings you into the wild?"


	6. Chapter 6 Friendship

Chapter 6. Friendship

Kyni found himself wandering aimlessly around the forest with Idríl, thoughts of the mountain completely eradicated from his mind. Somehow she had managed to convince him to carry the Kine for her, currently slung across his back.

 _Once you get over the arrogance_ , thought Kyni, _she's quite nice really. And beautiful._

Kyni realised that he'd never met anyone like her. Sure, there had been plenty of women in Dale, some of them even beautiful, yet Kyni had never felt attracted to them. What Kyni felt towards Idríl was completely different. He wanted to talk to her, to get to know her. And, he blushed at the thought, possibly find out what she looked like without clothes.

Their conversations were nearly as aimless as their wandering. Kyni spun a lie about his reason for being in the wild - he claimed to be out looking for food for his poor and hungry family. The mischievous twinkle returned to Idríl's eye, yet she did not press for any more details. Instead, she turned to questions about his heritage

"So I presume you only recently moved to Dale?" she questioned.

"Erm, no... Not exactly," answered Kyni sheepishly.

"What do you mean 'not exactly'?" said Idríl, her eyes narrowing.

"Well, I've actually been at Dale all... all my life."

Silence followed.

"But Kyni," said Idríl. "You're a dwarf?"

"I know that. Yet I have no memory of the mountain. My earliest memory is opening my eyes to my mother smiling down upon me, and my father by her shoulder. That is my life. That is where I belong." He stopped walking and dropped the Kine. "I may look like a dwarf but I don't feel like one. That's not who I am."

There was another silence where Idríl looked into Kyni's defiant face. The usual glint that appeared in her eye was gone. A look of deep contemplation was etched across her face instead. She bit her lip.

"Very well, Kyni. Kyni of Dale," she smiled, before looking up at the sky. "It's getting dark."

The sky was indeed darkening. The sun was almost completely gone now, as if it was being consumed by the Lonely Mountain itself. Kyni's eyes drifted towards its peak, before looking back at Idríl. She was looking at him, the familiar glint back, winking at him from behind her eye.

"Well, seeing as you've already dropped the food, what's say we eat some?"

The preparation for the food passed as a blur for Kyni. He collected some wood from the nearby trees and watched in awe as Idríl skilfully set fire to the wood. Next, she pulled a dagger out of nowhere and began to carve the meat.

"You've done this before," noted Kyni.

There was a sickening squelching noise as Idríl buried the knife up to the hilt in the animal and gave a sharp twist. She grimaced at the noise.

"Not this particular animal, but others, yes," she panted, working the knife back and forth.

Eventually, Idríl managed to produce two large portions of meat for both of them. She speared them both on a thin stick nearby and got Kyni to hold them over the fire. He grumbled at this yet without any real conviction - he saw it as a chance to show off his dwarfish-strength. She just smirked at him.

They chatted idly as the meat slowly roasted itself upon the spit. Kyni learnt that Idríl was of noble-birth and was some distant relation to that of Elrond Half-Elven, yet no records stated how they were related.

"Have you ever been to Rivendell then?" asked Kyni, finally deciding the meat was cooked and handing it to Idríl.

"Once, it was- Ow!" she quickly put the meat down on a stone they were using as a replacement for a plate.

"Sorry," said Kyni, a smile toying at the edges of his mouth.

"As I was saying," Idríl started again, rubbing her scolded hand. "I have been once. We Elves know it as Imladris, which means deep hidden valley. And never has there been a more apt name. If one does not know where they are going, finding Lord Elrohir's house is next to impossible. I wish you could see it though, Kyni."

Idríl's eyes seemed to glaze over, as her memory journeyed back. She laid down next to the fire, food completely forgotten. Kyni stayed sat at the fire, slowly eating his food, his eyes fixed on Idríl. "Imagine it: walking along the white cobbled path, winding down in between the valleys. And there it is. The Last Homely House. Ablaze with colours of gold and silver. The mallorn tree you were admiring earlier? Imagine an entire forest of them, glittering in the sunlight. Oh I wish I could go back there." She closed her eyes, lost in thoughts of the beauty of Rivendell. Kyni had finished his food and was staring into the depths of the flames, imagining the house that had captivated Idríl. He imagined it had to be truly magnificent, to capture one as beautiful as her.

"Idríl?" said Kyni, quietly.

Silence met him, followed by slow, steady breathing. He smiled to himself. She was sleeping.

"Goodnight, Idríl, Goddess of Mirkwood."


	7. Chapter 7 Skirmish

Chapter 7. Skirmish

Kyni was woken by a piercing beam of sunlight. He stirred and realised the sun had just risen over the Forest of Mirkwood. It appeared sleep had finally caught up with him - he reckoned it was well past dawn. It was then that Kyni remembered Idríl. He quickly sat up. The She-elf was nowhere to be seen. Kyni's heart sank. Had he meant so little to her that she'd vanish off in the night? Or had it all been a dream? He sighed, before deciding that this was no time to think morbidly. He had a quest to finish. And questions that needed answering.

He stood up and wrapped his belt round his waist again, checking that he had his trusty weapons within it. He cast his eyes around the clearing again, and that was when he saw it.

A fur package was arranged on the middle the flat stone Idríl had used as a plate. Kyni walked over to it and opened it. Inside, was a finely cut and cooked piece of Kine. Kyni smiled to himself. So it hadn't been a dream! He placed the meat carefully inside his rucksack and walked away, a big smile upon his face. She did care after all.

Kyni followed the edge of Mirkwood North, making his way slowly towards Erebor. His mind wandered as he strolled, roaming back to his parents. He felt a pang of homesickness, as he remembered his mother's face, gleaming with her fresh tears, as she waved Kyni away. Elboran was there in his thoughts as well. His gruff face looking no different. Except if you looked into his eyes. There was a sliver of misgiving hidden deep within them.

Kyni's thoughts then turned to his real father, Frór. The bastard who had abandoned. The bastard who had made him bastard-son. How ironic. Anger started to burn inside Kyni again and he gripped the hilt of his sword, his knuckles turning white with the pressure.

Then his thoughts turned again to Idríl and his hand unclenched. A smile started to play its way across his face. He thought about her beautiful green eyes and her golden hair with that one strand of silver hair over her eye. And the way she bit her lip... Kyni blushed slightly, embarrassed, despite there being no one around.

Kyni was so lost in thought of the elf that he did not notice that he had wandered away from the edge of Mirkwood. Nor did he realise that in the distance, through the clouds and mist, it was possible to discern the lone peak of the Mountain of Erebor.

To the East of Kyni, there came a horrible screech. He snapped out of his daze and turned towards the noise. He ducked just in time. He felt something fly past over him and graze his shoulder. It let out another horrid shriek as it flew away. Kyni stood up, feeling his shoulder. As far as he could tell, there was no deep wound. He turned towards the creature flying away. There was a satisfying sound of iron being drawn as Kyni pulled his sword from its scabbard. He could make out a something large soaring away into the distance. Suddenly, it turned round. Kyni steeled himself, planting one foot behind him and raising his sword. The creature slowly got closer and closer. The first thing Kyni noticed was how the sun seemed to glisten upon its skin. No, not skin: scales. It drew closer and closer, as Kyni's heart started to beat uncontrollably. He could now make out the eyes. He shuddered at the sight. They were just red. A blood red colour, with no other feature. Then, it was upon him. He ducked again and swung his sword. Yet the creature somehow managed to grasp its talons around the blade and flew on. Kyni felt the sword wrench out of his grip. He let out a cry of pain as he was sent sprawling to the ground, his knee connecting painfully with a sharp rock. He tried to stand up again but let out another cry of pain as pain flared in his knee. He dropped to one knee and looked up. The winged beast was circling around again, locking onto its target, taking its time. It knew Kyni was wounded with no weapon and was now playing with its food. Then, it straightened, flapped its enormous wings once and came hurtling towards the wounded Dwarf. A thought suddenly popped into Kyni's head: the Dagger!

He drew it just in time. Holding it towards the creature, he heard it shriek and try to change direction but too late. Kyni felt the blade sink into the underbelly of the creature. Blood spurted out, splattering Kyni's clothes. He quickly pulled the dagger out and rolled to the side, letting the wounded beast fly past. He expected it to crash yet it did not. It let out another shriek and, just at the moment that impact was seemingly inescapable, it managed to elevate itself with one large swing of its wings.

Kyni watched it flying off into the distance, panting heavily. He was wary of another attack, yet did not think he'd be able to fend off his opponent again. However, the beast seemed more intent on getting as far away from Kyni as possible. It soared into the distance, becoming just a speck for Kyni to see. He let out a long sigh, sheathing his sword. Then, he collapsed, and was engulfed by darkness.


	8. Chapter 8 Contact

Chapter 8. Contact

"Who is he?"

"I have no idea, Do I?"

"Well, where did he come from?"

"He was found yonder upon the plains separating us and Mirkwood. He was just lying there."

"What? Asleep?"

"Don't be daft. Whoever heard of a dwarf walking into the middle of a field and just having a nap? No, unconscious. Had a nasty wound to his shoulder as well. Looks like a scratch of some sort."

"Looks like his knee has been damaged as well. What a tragedy."

"Well spotted, Oerríc."

"Maybe he fell over?"

"Stop with the daft suggestions, Ràsarc."

"..."

"How do you even know he's even a he?"

"..."

"Good point. Ràsarc, why don't you check?"

Kyni's eyes flew open. His eyes managed to focus upon three dwarves, all looking down upon him.

"Ah. He's awake," said the first dwarf. "Well first things first lad: are you, in fact, a lad?"

"I'm sorry?" said Kyni, sitting up and rubbing his head.

"Are you a lad or lass?"

"Male or female?" queried the second dwarf.

"Chap or chappess?" chimed the third.

"Well I'm-" began Kyni, before pain suddenly erupted in his shoulder.

"Good lord. He doesn't know. Totally flummoxed," said the third dwarf.

"Completely confused that one," concurred the second dwarf.

"No, I am a male," said Kyni again, gripping his shoulder in an attempt to staunch the pain.

"Ah well. That's a shame. Nice to meet you anyway, lad. I am Veorza of the line of Durin," smiled the first dwarf. He extended his hand and Kyni shook it gingerly. "This is Oerríc-" said Veorza, pointing to the second dwarf.

"Hi there," said Oerríc, saluting in style.

"-and this is Ràsarc," continued Veorza.

"How-do."

"Hi. I'm Kyni. Kyni of Dale. Sorry to be blunt but," said Kyni, looking around the stone room. "Where am I?"

"Kyni... That name rings a bell," mused Veorza. "As for where you are, well lad - you are in the great Halls of Erebor, inside the Lonely Mountain."

The three dwarves stood, watching with amusement as Kyni's mouth slowly became a perfect, comical O shape.

"I see that came as a shock," grinned Oerríc.

Kyni realised how ridiculous he looked and closed his mouth. He could only manage a nod, as thoughts raced through his mind. _So I'm finally here,_ he thought. _Maybe I can get some answers now._

"So tell us lad: what were you doing having a nap beyond the Gates of Erebor?" said Ràsarc.

"Ràsarc," said Veorza sharply. "we already decided he wasn't sleeping. Go inform Hrafen our friend has woken."

Ràsarc grumbled for a while, before doing as he was bid. The remaining dwarves watched him leave, before Oerríc and Hrafen turned back to Kyni.

"Despite Ràsarc's stupidity, he asked a notable question: what were you doing?" said Veorza. "And what happened to your shoulder?" He added, as Kyni grimaced in pain once again.

"I was on my way here when... Something attacked me," replied Kyni, massaging his throbbing shoulder.

"Something? What do you mean something?" asked Oerríc curiously.

"I don't know. It was big," Kyni hesitated. "And winged."

Silence followed these words. Veorza looked deep into Kyni's eyes, attempting to detect any form of a lie.

"But, Kyni. What you just described is, well, a dragon," said Veorza pointedly.

Kyni stood up, ignoring the pain in his shoulder and met Veorza's eyes. "Yes, that is exactly what I described. Yet it never did breathe fire. Have you ever heard of a dragon that does not aim to melt the skin of its victims?"

Veorza started to pace back and forth, his brow furrowed in thought, as Oerríc's eyes flicked back from Kyni to Veorza.

"I have heard tales of dragons that have no need of flames. Their eyes alone are enough to paralyse a man," said Veorza. "But enough of that for now. Come, we must take you to our King."

"Who rules Erebor at the moment?" asked Kyni, as the three dwarves walked together through the halls.

"Why lad," said a voice reverberating off the stones around Kyni. "That would be Thorin Stonehelm."

Another dwarf stepped around the corner. His face was set yet there was a smile playing upon his lips. Following him, came Ràsarc.

"Hello Kyni," said the mysterious dwarf. "It has been too long."

"Who are you?" said Kyni, perplexed.

"My name is Hrafen," Said the dwarf. "I knew your father."


	9. Chapter 9 The Clouds Gather

Chapter 9. The Clouds Gather

"What do you mean 'knew'?" asked Kyni.

"It's best if we take you to Thorin first. But I promise, Kyni: all your questions shall be answered in due time," Said Hrafen. "Come, follow me."

With that, he turned and walked back around the corner he just came. Kyni stole a glance at Veorza, who looked just as confused as Kyni felt. Yet they had no choice but to follow Hrafen, and so they hurried after him.

The route Hrafen took them wound in and out, turning left then right every few minutes. The air down under the mountain was cool on Kyni's face, and seemed to apply some gentle soothing to his aching shoulder. Every so often he would grimace from a pain and automatically move his hand up to hold his wound, causing Veorza to look at him with concern. As they walked, Oerríc attempted to make small talk:

"So boy, if that's what you really are, who's your father? How does Hrafen know him? Furthermore... Wait, where did you say you came from? Dale, wasn't it? What's a dwarf doing in Dale? I personally think that the people of Dale are a strange folk. Living off fish and that's it. I mean that's just a queer thing to do. Another thing as well..."

Kyni let his voice washing over him, soon realising that Oerríc was quite mad. Veorza cleared his throat and caught Kyni's eye. He shrugged with an apologetic look in his eye, flitting his gaze to Oerríc as he did.

Oerríc's incessant babbling droned on and on. His voice seemed to be getting louder and louder as it reverberated around the stone walls. Kyni looked up and saw the reason was that the ceiling was slowly getting higher and higher.

The company rounded one more corner and Kyni stopped abruptly. They had arrived in the Throne Room of Erebor. The large entrance now seemed insignificant compared to the grand size of the hall. Kyni gazed around in amazement as he tried to take it all in. There was gold inlaid into the walls on either side, with mining lanterns hanging improbably from long spindly lengths of wire. There was an impressive marble walkway leading all the way up to a distant throne.

"Come," beckoned Hrafen, who was already leading the way forwards. Kyni started to walk forwards, still looking around in awe at the vastness of the Throne Room. Arches and walkways loomed high above him, travelling up and up and up, crossing over with one another. Below him, the sound of mining could be heard. He looked down and saw dozens of tiny dwarven specks, chiselling away at the walls, extracting the rich minerals that the mountain was known for.

After a lengthy period of walking, the dwarves arrived at the throne. Seated upon the ornately carved chair, there sat a dwarf, clad in shimmering armour of mithril, his beard braided with gold.

"Kyni, may I present to you, Thorin III Stonehelm, son of the great Dáin Ironfoot," said Hrafen, and bowed towards Thorin. Kyni took this as a sign to do the same and bent his back.

"My Lord," he murmured.

"My Lord Thorin, may I present to you, Kyni of Dale, son of Frór. He has returned my liege," continued Hrafen, this time directing the introduction at his King.

There was a collective gasp from Veorza, Oerríc and Ràsarc, all of whom had only heard whispers of the bastard-son of Frór. Thorin Stonehelm looked deep into Kyni's eyes. Kyni returned the gaze with a face carved from stone. Then, the King stood up, and did something no one expected: he bowed.

"Greetings, Kyni," said Thorin, standing up again. "It is a great honour to have you within our halls again. Tell me, why did you come here?"

"I came for answers... My Lord," Kyni added, hastily. "I wish to know about my father."

"I personally cannot answer these questions. I did not know your father."

"My Lord," interjected Hrafen. "I did know Frór. I, with the help of Geise, could attempt to answer any questions Kyni has."

Thorin considered this for a moment.

"So be it. Kyni, ask any questions you may have."

"Thank you," said Kyni. "Firstly, I'd like to know how you knew my father?"

"We were his wards, boy," said a gruff voiced dwarf standing at the left shoulder of Thorin. "We were sworn to protect him from any danger. You'd do well to show us respect."

"Easy now, Geise," Said Hrafen, attempting to calm Geise down. "The lad is only curious." he turned back to Kyni. "Yes, we were his wards. It was our duty to protect and, if need be, guide him."

"Guide him? You mean you're responsible for my abandonment?" asked Kyni, his eyes narrowing.

"You were never abandoned, you ungrateful child," said Geise sharply. "Your father did what was needed."

"Don't lie to me," Spat Kyni." You mean to say that it was necessary to abandon me? Necessary to place me among the lives of men and women of who I had no connection with?" Kyni continued, his words directed at Geise. "My first few years were of misery. I didn't fit in. I aged differently, I acted differently, I even spoke differently. And you're saying it was needed."

Silence followed Kyni's words. His eyes roamed over the other dwarfs, as the level of animosity within the halls felt palpable. Thorin, Veorza and Hrafen looked sheepish. Geise just looked defiant.

To everyone's surprise, it was Ràsarc who replied.

"They say it was a woman that caused Frór to abandon you," he said, in a dreamy fashion of not really being mentally present.

"A, a woman?" Kyni said, his anger suddenly replaced with confusion.

"Ràsarc..." growled Geise, but Ràsarc paid him no heed.

"Yes, a woman. They say he accompanied Dáin to the Iron Hills many years ago and fell in love."

"But," Said Kyni. "Why would this cause my abandonment?"

"There are rumours that he b-

"No. You've said enough, Ràsarc," cut in Geise.

"You have no right to withhold this information from me," said Kyni, turning on Geise.

"I have every right. I was Frór's ward, boy, it is my duty to protect him." Geise looked Kyni dead in the eye. "And this is a personal matter that must be protected."

"I disagree. But there's that use of the past again. Where is my father?" Kyni asked at large.

"Your father, Kyni," said Thorin. "Has been taken prisoner."


	10. Chapter 10 The Enemy

Chapter 10. The Enemy

Thorin led Kyni, Geise and Hrafen along a winding walk way, going down, down into the deepest part of the mountain. Oerríc, Ràsarc and Veorza bid their farewells to Kyni and went about their usual business.

"We need some privacy," said Thorin, as he led them through the winding paths. Kyni was in utter admiration of the King's sense of direction. He attempted to remember the path that led them downwards, yet soon got lost after the first few turns. Thorin however, paid little heed to their direction; his legs seemed to be moving of their own accord, as their owner's face remained passive and stony, showing no joy in the knowledge of the talk that must be had.

After one final turn of a tunnel, they came to an ornately decorated door, with the words " _Beware the Sickness of the Dragon."_ inscribed above in the arch.

"The Sickness of the Dragon?" enquired Kyni.

"It's an old tale," began Thorin. "It has claimed the mind of many great dwarven Kings. It is called the 'dragon sickness'. It is known as such due to the evil seed of corruption it places within the mind. You become obsessed with all things gold. You lose yourself, wallowing in your riches, as the disease spreads. Soon, you are consumed by your lust for gold, and will stop at nothing to claim it. Much like a dragon." He sighed. "It claimed the mind of Thrór, the first King under the Mountain, and has ever since been a burden we must be wary of. The great Thorin Oakenshield almost even succumbed to its allure, and would've done if it had not been for his burglar. So we wrote a warning, to all who may enter. Behold. The vast treasure of Erebor."

Thorin nodded, and Geise and Hrafen moved up to the heavy doors and pulled, slowly revealing inside. A light of purest gold hit Kyni's face, as the doors were slowly pulled to. He stepped forwards, and was met by towers of gold and jewels. They were all stacked against the walls, impossibly neat. In the centre of the room, was a tomb. Kyni walked over to it and read the marble plaque on the side: " _Here lies Thorin Oakenshield, King Under the Mountain. May the free folk of Middle-earth always prosper from his sacrifice._ "

Upon the carving of Thorin, clasped within his stony hands, lay the most beautiful of jewels. It was a pearly white, but seemed to radiate all the colours imaginable.

"Is that..." whispered Kyni.

"Yes, lad. That is the Arkenstone. Laid to rest with Thorin Oakenshield. Your ancestor," said the King, placing a hand upon Kyni's shoulder.

"It's beautiful," said Kyni, still gazing in awe at the jewel.

"It is. But come," said Thorin, guiding Kyni away from the tomb. "We must talk. Follow me." He turned to the other dwarves. "Geise, Hrafen. Watch the doors - make sure we're not disturbed."

They nodded, and left room, pushing the doors closed once outside. Kyni kept pace with Thorin, as he led them into a chamber beyond the treasures of Erebor. The chamber itself was much more simplistic than the Halls of Gold. Yet despite this, the walls were covered in portraits of dwarves. Thorin closed the wooden door behind them, before ushering Kyni to take a seat upon a chair, which he did.

"Welcome, Kyni, to the Halls of our Fathers. Every King Under the Mountain that has ruled here is around this room. One day I will be as well." Thorin sat down on a chair opposite the young dwarf.

Once sat, he sighed. "So Kyni, your father. I do not know all there is to know about your abandonment, but I know some. What Ràsarc said was true: your father did venture to the Iron Hills and meet someone. What happened between them, I do not know, but one day, she came to me." There was a pause, as Thorin waited for Kyni to say something, but he just looked on. Thorin continued. "She came bearing a son. You, I believe. She asked to see Frór. He eventually came, yet soon became angry that she would bring you here. He told her to leave, stating he had no desire for her or you. She refused, and your father, drunk with rage, drew his sword and threatened to strike both of you down where you were. It was Hrafen who saved you I think. He stepped in and suggested an ultimatum: we would take the boy, but deliver him to the Men of Dale. It took a while, but he finally managed to convince Frór. Your mother left; spouseless and childless, but at least she knew you were safe. So, now you know."

There was another space of silence, as Kyni mulled Thorin's words over.

"So what you're saying," said Kyni, his face in his hands. "is that Frór, my father, was as cruel as he was uncaring?"

"No, Kyni," whispered Thorin. "He had a temper, that much is true, but he was never cruel. At least, not truly cruel. Your mother had been a onetime thing - one lonely night of passion. He didn't know her any more than I know you. He was angry, that was all. He repented, later in life. He felt guilty for sending her away, and rejecting you as his son. He was even going to go see you in Dale, yet was taken. And now he's gone."

"Where? Who would kidnap him?"

Thorin sighed again. "We do not know who, we only know what. He was travelling to Dale, along with Geise and Hrafen, to reclaim you as his son when it happened. Hrafen says they heard a roar, and turned just in time to see something huge and winged grab Frór by its talons and lift him off his horse. There was nothing Hrafen or Geise could do except watch as he was carried off." Thorin's face had turned dark. He got up and walked over to the portrait of his father, Dáin. He touched his hand to it before speaking again. "We have no idea where he was taken, or why. Yet we know what took him. Kyni," he said, turning back to look at Kyni. Their eyes locked. "We think the dragons are back. And they want revenge."

Kyni was about to speak when the door burst open.

"My apologies my Lord," said Veorza, panting slightly. "But the Elves have come."

"You did well to find me, Veorza, thank you," replied Thorin, nodding at the dwarf.

"Elves? Why are Elves here?" said Kyni, bewildered.

Thorin stood up. "In order to counter this evil, we must unite. Come, Kyni. It is time to introduce you to the Council of War, for all the free people of Middle-earth."


	11. Chapter 11 War

Chapter 11. War

Not only Elves had turned up for the War Council. It consisted of Dwarves, Men and Elves. They all stood round a large stone table. Each place had an elegant wooden chair, except for Thorin's, which was a direct replica of his throne. He and Kyni both entered the room.

Aside from Thorin, there were only four other Dwarves present. Geise and Hrafen stood by the doors, guarding them. Every so often, Geise would look at the Elves and scowl. Veorza was sat to the right of Thorin, evidently a man of great importance to him.

Kyni was shocked to see that Bard II, the ruler of Dale, was present at the Council. He nodded at Kyni, apparently not surprised to see him there at all. He had only one other kinsmen there: a man with grizzled black hair. He gave off an aura of importance and seemed to radiate power.

The Elves were seated at the opposite end to Thorin. King Thranduil had adorned his crown of purest silver, interwoven with golden leaves. To his right was an Elf with sharp, blue eyes who Kyni did not know. To his left was... Kyni's heart skipped a beat. There, giving him a radiant smile, was Idríl.

"Welcome, friends," said Thorin. "Please, be seated. For those of you who don't know everyone, I shall make introductions. I am Thorin, ruler of Erebor. To my right is Veorza, my chief advisor." Veorza smiled and nodded at everyone. "For the Race of Men, there sits Bard II of Dale. Next to him sits the High King of Gondor. Everyone, pay your respects to Aragorn, Son of Arathorn."

"Thank you, Thorin." Aragorn spoke with the grace of all Kings. He smiled at everyone in the room individually. Yet behind the smile there was a lingering sense of pain that only one who has seen great tragedy can hold.

"Finally, representing the Elves, you have Thranduil, King of Mirkwood, and his advisor Tairdan. Finally, you have Idríl of Mirkwood, Daughter of Elrohir of Rivendell."

Kyni's face turned to one of shock. Idríl glanced at him and seemed to plead with her eyes. She had lied to him.

"Now we all know each other by name rather than face," said Thorin. "let us-"

"Begging your pardon, Thorin. But who is this?" asked the King of Mirkwood, pointing a long, slender finger at Kyni, who was standing awkwardly near Thorin's throne.

"This, is Kyni. He comes from a Dale and is a guest in our halls. He's had quite the tale and I'm sure you'll find out about it soon enough."

"But why is he here?" said Thranduil.

Thorin opening his mouth to reply but before he could, Veorza spoke. "We believe he may have some critical information for us. As well having personal reasons for helping us."

This seemed to satisfy Thranduil, he nodded and leaned back in his chair.

"So, we must discuss this threat," Thorin began again. "As you all know, our Dwarf-Lord Frór was kidnapped by some manner of dragon. We believe this is only the beginning. What news do the Elves bring?"

"We have heard whispers of a weir of dragons set high in the Grey Mountains to the North. We have also seen shadows of beasts flying high," said Tairdan.

"My Lord Elrohir has heard much the same but we have experienced more," said Idríl, her voice grave. "He sent his brother, Elladan, and a detachment of Elves to the Ettenmoors. Too few returned. They say something huge and winged came crushing down upon them. Of the twenty or so that went, only four returned, my Uncle being one of them."

"That concludes it then - the dragons are back," said Bard.

"Not quite," said Idríl. "Elladan claims the beast made no attempt to burn them. Have you ever heard of a dragon who does not breathe fire?"

There was silence round the table, as everyone pondered the meaning behind this.

"There is a tale," began Thranduil slowly, "of a dragon without the fire-breath. He was a cold drake and lived in the Grey Mountains."

"That is a mere myth of old," said Thorin, before continuing the tale. "His name was Gostir, and he is said to have killed Dáin I and his second son Frór, outside their halls in the Grey Mountains. It is folly talking about this, that lizard died out centuries ago."

"The same was said of Sauron, yet he lived," said Aragorn quietly, a dark shadow flickering across his face.

Silence followed his words.

"Okay, let us believe that Gostir is still alive," Said Bard II. "He can't be the only dragon around - there must've been others attacking us."

"I was attacked by one," blurted Kyni. Every eye around the table turned to look at him. He blushed. "Veorza knows, he's the one who found me."

"He's right. He claimed he'd been attacked by some winged beast," said Veorza sheepishly.

"And you neglected to mention this earlier?" said Thorin, a touch of annoyance in his voice.

"I forgot, My Lord."

Thorin sighed. "No matter. Come, Kyni. Tell us what happened."

"It was just outside of these halls, upon the plains." He glanced at Idríl, wondering whether or not he should mention their meeting. He decided against it. "I had just come from Dale and was heading towards the halls. I heard the cry first. A terrible shrieking roar from overhead. It was scaled, with blood red eyes. Its vicious talons cut into my shoulder. I thought it was nothing at the time but I must've fainted from the pain later on. Anyway, I managed to injure it as it flew past using my dagger." He instinctively moved his hand down to his belt, searching for it. He had a sudden panic when he could not find it. "My dagger! Where is it? Veorza?"

"Don't worry, Kyni. It's next to your bed where we brought you in for rest," replied the Dwarf calmly.

"Oh, I see. Thank you," said Kyni, slightly embarrassed.

"Is there anything else you can tell us, Kyni?" enquired Thranduil.

"I'm afraid not, my Lord. It all happened so fast. Only..." he hesitated.

"What is it?"

"Only I don't think it was a dragon. I've heard tales and stories of the vast size of the beasts. This creature was big, granted, but not that big. It was too slender as well - it looked more suited for flying than combat."

"That is... Troubling," mused Thorin, his brow furrowed. "If what you suspect is true, then the dragons have found some sort of winged servants. This does not bode well. For any of us."

The party lapsed into a thoughtful silence, all trying to think of the best way to deal with the situation.

"I think we need to take the fight to the Grey Mountains," Said Tairdan, breaking the silence. "If we wait then they will just swoop down and pick us off one by one, our arrows be damned. I doubt I need to remind any of you of the tale of Smaug and his scales. If it were not for your ancestor, Bard, we would all have been at his mercy."

The conversation again lulled into deep thinking. From outside the hall, there came the sound of running footsteps, getting louder and louder. All heads turned towards it, and the footsteps stopped. They were then replaced by heavy panting, which went on for a while longer. Then, there came three loud knocks upon the door. Hrafen and Geise opened the door and a dwarf walked in.

"Yes, Fastras? What is it?" said Thorin impatiently.

"My, my lord," panted the dwarf. "We've spotted one."

"Spotted what?"

"A dragon, My Lord. An actual dragon!"


	12. Chapter 12 Scouts on Wings

Chapter 12. Scouts on Wings

Kyni soon found out that it wasn't a dragon.

It was three.

They circled over the plains, as the War Council, and a chosen few, stood in the giant doorway of the entrance to Erebor.

"What are they doing?" said Kyni, squinting through the sunlight.

"They're scouting. They're actually scouting. This is incredible. The dragons are organised," breathed Bard.

"What do you mean?"

"Dragons usually rely on reckless hate," explained Bard. "You know the story of Smaug as well as me - how he razed Laketown to the ground out of pure anger. But these dragons, they're being careful and cautious.

"Someone bring me my bow," he demanded suddenly.

A dwarf came scurrying up, holding his bow and a quiver of arrows.

"Let us see how tough those scales really are."

He notched an arrow and drew the string back. He levelled the bow with his eye and aimed high. He paused, breathing out slowly, before letting fly. The arrow whistled through the air, towards the flying beasts. Suddenly, it struck. There was a clink, and a shriek. The company cheered, before seeing the arrow fall to the ground.

"I warned you, Bard. Their scales are more than a match," said Tairdan.

"What's that on the ground?" said Aragorn.

All eyes focused on a small mass on the ground below the beasts.

"It looks like..." began Thorin. His eyes drew wide. "Fastras. Who is that?"

"My Lord, it's... It's Húslak," replied the ashen-faced Fastras.

"NO!" a roar was heard behind them. The company turned and saw Ràsarc running full pelt towards the door. Thorin just managed to grab him before he left the safety.

"Ràsarc. Calm yourself!" he shouted at the struggling dwarf.

"He's my brother! What the hell do you expect me to do?!"Ràsarc shouted back.

Thorin rounded on Fastras. "How come you did not tell me Húslak had left?"

"I did not think it was that important, my Lord," mumbled Fastras.

Ràsarc stopped struggling and shoved Thorin off him. He advanced slowly towards Fastras, who retreated quickly.

"You bastard," said Ràsarc, his voice dripping with venom. "Not important? He's my goddamn brother. How dare you say-"

"Ràsarc," said Thorin sharply. "Now is not the time for your anger to rule your heart.

"Look!" said Kyni suddenly. "He moved."

All heads whipped round to look at the body of Húslak. He had indeed moved. They watched as he raised his head and let out a cry of pain, as he tried to crawl towards Erebor.

"No, Ràsarc!" cried Thorin, but too late. Ràsarc had sprung away and was already halfway towards his brother.

There came a horrid screech. One of the dragons had spotted the lone figure of Ràsarc. He dived for him.

It caught him full in the chest, gouging its claws into him, pushing him back onto the ground and landing on top of him. There was a great cry of pain, as the claws dug deeper.

Quick as a flash, Bard notched another arrow and let it fly. Kyni seemed to watch, as if in slow-motion, as the arrow sailed towards its target.

 _What difference will this make?_ He thought to himself, watching helplessly.

The arrow pierced the dragon straight through the eye. There was an ear-splitting scream of agony, as the arrow lodged itself deep within the creature's brain. Then, its scream was cut short, as it toppled to the side and moved no more.

"Ràsarc!" shouted Oerríc, but the body did not stir.

"Kyni, Idríl, Bard, follow me." said Aragorn. The three found themselves obeying his order without any questions.

Aragorn drew his sword as he went, and it seemed to glisten in the sun. He blessed it against his forehead, before cautiously walking forwards.

"Give me a sword," said Kyni, holding out his hand. Thorin drew his own and handed it to Kyni, who gripped the handle tightly.

Idríl drew her bow and together, along with Bard, the three of them ran out to join Aragorn.

He was crouched over the body of Ràsarc when they arrived.

"He's breathing," said Aragorn, standing up and readying his sword. "Bard, Idríl. Fire an arrow at the beasts. Let's see how their scales fare against the Flame of the West."

Bard and Idríl's arrows both found their mark, angering the beasts. One dived straight towards them.

Aragorn held his ground. He gripped his sword in two hands and waited.

The dragon drew closer and closer, pounding its big wings through the air, gathering speed. Suddenly, it was upon them.

Aragorn stepped to the side just in time. Quick as a flash, he brought his sword down. There was a blinding light, as the sun reflected of the blade, followed by a sickening sound of metal cutting into the flesh. And the dragons head came flying off. Kyni had to dive to the side to avoid the crashing body.

"Look out, Kyni!"

He rolled onto his front, just in time to see the second dragon come flying straight for him. It shrieked at him and landed heavily on top of him. The weight drove Kyni's body back down into the earth, as he felt the claws dig deep into his already wounded shoulder. His sword lay just out of reach, as the dragon shrieked again and dug its claws in deeper. It lowered its jaws towards his face, baring its teeth. Kyni closed his eyes.

There was a loud battle-cry, followed by a screech. Kyni opened his eyes to see the dragon stuck in the same place. Then its grip lessened and it started to slide to the side. Standing behind it was Idríl, her sword dripping with the dragon's blood.

"Kyni..." she panted, dropping her sword and running towards him.

He opened his mouth to reply, but only blood came out.

Then, his eyes fluttered once last time, and he lost consciousness.


	13. Chapter 13 Houses of Healing

Chapter 13. Houses of Healing

 _He was walking down a corridor full of stone, the occasional torch lighting up his path. His footsteps echoed all around him, as the rush of wind consumed his hearing. He looked around, puzzled as to where he was. His surroundings were as unyielding in his revealing his location as the stone was coarse. A smell suddenly hit him; the smell of sweat... and blood. He gulped yet he seemed to have no control over the movement of his feet. He looked ahead of him and saw a faint light - unlike the artificial one cast by the torches on the walls. He could hear the faint babble of chatter. The light slowly drew closer and closer, as his feet carried him forwards. He finally arrived at the source. He squinted, as the light became blinding. He stepped forward and entered..._

 _An arena. The stands were lined with cheering spectators. The sand was soft between his feet, which he only just realised now were bare._

 _Stepping forwards further into the arena, a sword was thrown at his feet. He picked it up, his arms shaking. The blade was rusted and old, yet was still more than adequate to draw blood from someone._

 _Ahead of him was a lone, solitary victor, stood basking in the glory of a previous victory. Blood was soaking into the sand all around him, and his sword was slowly dripping with the life-force of some poor soul. His eyes were raging with the fervour of all men. A fire seemed to burn in the very depths of them. He snarled as he noticed the new figure and turned to face him._

 _"F-father?!" stammered Kyni._

 _The victor showed no sign of recognition in his heated face. Instead, he just snarled again. And charged, swinging his sword, intent on severing head from body._

 _Kyni screamed._

And woke up.

"Kyni!"

Kyni sat up too quickly and lights popped in his head.

"Easy there, lad." said a voice.

Slowly, Kyni looked around his surroundings. He was in a large bed, strewn with golden and green leaves. Stood at the end of his bed was Thorin, his brow furrowed again. Sat next to him was Idríl, a look of deep thankfulness upon her face.

"Thank the Valar you're awake. I thought, I thought..." she said quietly. Her hand seemed to hover over his for a few seconds before returning to her knees.

"I'm fine," said Kyni, attempting to smile at her. His shoulder ached and seemed to be bandaged. A foul smelling odour lingered upon the wound. "What-"

"The beast's claws were poisoned," said Thranduil, sweeping into the room. He bestowed a rare smile upon Kyni. "We have managed to extract it and clean up the wound as best we could. It clawed you deep - right up to the bone - but luckily did no more damage than that."

"Thank you," Replied Kyni, smiling back at Thranduil. "And thank you too, Idríl."

"Hush now, you'd have done the same for me," said Idríl.

They smiled each other.

"How's Húslak?" said Kyni suddenly, looking at Thorin.

"Húslak is fine. Deep wounds like yours, but nothing fatal. It seems as though he was the bait," said Thorin, before taking a deep breath. "Ràsarc however... Ràsarc is dead. A claw pierced his lung before Bard had time to shoot the beast."

Kyni tried to get his head around it. He'd hardly known Ràsarc yet his death was a serious blow to his fellow dwarves. Thorin stood with his hands clenched upon the end of Kyni's bed, his face set. Veorza, who Kyni only just realised was there, had his head in his hands, his whole body trembling. He had been close to Ràsarc, and his passing must be causing serious grief.

"We can mourn for Ràsarc later," said Tairdan, a little more impertinently than intended. "Kyni, can you walk?"

"It's not my legs that are the problem," Kyni said, a touch of anger in his voice.

Tairdan gave him a cold gaze. "If his _liege_ feels able to stand, someone help him up. It's time we examined the beasts." With that, Tairdan strode away at a brisk pace.

With Thorin's help and support, Kyni followed the distance footsteps of Tairdan. The pain in his shoulder had turned to a dull throbbing pain, and only caused Kyni to convulse when he moved his shoulder too much.

After a while, Kyni realised that Aragorn was no longer with them.

"Where's Aragorn?" asked Kyni.

"He had to return to Gondor. Their scouts reported sightings of winged beasts as well," said Thorin.

"This does not bode well for any of us."

"No, Kyni, it does not. We had no idea they were this numerous. One thing is sure though: a storm's coming, and at its head are hundreds of those beasts. And we'd best be ready when it arrives."

The smell was what hit Kyni first. The smell of decaying flesh and drying-out blood.

"As you can see, all three are dead," said Tairdan, rather unnecessarily, turning to face the two dwarves and Idríl when they entered the room.

Piled on the floor behind Tairdan, were the corpses of the dragons.

"They're not dragons."

"What?!" exclaimed Kyni, tearing his eyes away from the mangled remains to look at Tairdan.

"They are not dragons. Their bodies are too lean and slim, as well as their claws being shorter than an actual dragon. The clue however, is in the tail. Come." He beckoned to Kyni to follow him.

They walked round the pile of corpses and Kyni was led to the headless beast that Aragorn had slain.

"Look. Tell me what you can about the tail."

Kyni examined the tail for a while before speaking. "It's short. As well as seeming almost too smooth. From the tales I've heard, aren't dragons meant to have vicious spikes and barbs? It is said that it is impossible to sneak up behind a dragon without being stabbed and flung away."

"You are correct, Kyni. This is a wyvern," said Thranduil, who had only just arrived in the room. "It's a creature of myth, yet it seems as though they are no longer so."

"So what, they're now the servants of a dragon?" asked Thorin.

"We believe so, though we have no proof," replied Thranduil, "It's entirely possible that they have no master but that seems unlikely. The fact they were scouting suggests some more intellectual being commands them. And that is a worrying thought."

Kyni's gaze returned to the dead wyverns strewn across the floor.

"I don't think we can just wait about for another attack," he said, finally, turning to Thranduil. "My Lord, I know you barely know me, and have no real reason to trust me. But I wish to journey to the Grey Mountains and find out who is behind this."

 _And maybe find my father_ , he thought silently.

"Thorin and I have already discussed this," said Thranduil. "We are pulling our resources and sending you, Thorin and Idríl, along with a detachment of forty Dwarves and forty Elves, to put an end to this. You leave at dawn." He smiled at Kyni. "May the blessings of Manwë and all of his descendants, go with you. Good luck."


	14. Chapter 14 The March Onward

Chapter 14. The March Onwards

Day-break came crisp and clear. No cloud within the sky imbued the travellers as they left the forest of Mirkwood and headed north.

A congregation of Elves and Dwarves had arrived late the night before; Thorin had sent word to Erebor, stating that 40 Dwarves would be needed to carry out a dangerous quest. They now marched together, bringing up the rear of the company.

Kyni and Idríl walked together ahead of them, chatting amiably with each other. In front of them, leading the company, were Thorin, along with Hrafen.

The night before, Veorza had sought Kyni out. "Kyni," he had said, with a heavy heart. "I would appreciate it greatly if I could journey with you. For me the grief of losing Ràsarc is still too near. Maybe this journey will bring me peace. Yes, I seek revenge, but maybe that is what we need. The evil that awaits us within the Grey Mountains is one of severe power. I believe that revenge shall be my strength."

Kyni had placed his hand upon Veorza's shoulder and smiled kindly at him. "My dear Veorza. You are the one who found me, half-dead, outside your halls. You healed me to the best of my abilities. It would be my honour to journey with you."

And so Veorza had joined their company. The merry twinkle in his eyes that Kyni had first known were gone from the dwarf. A deep sadness had replaced them, one that could only be brought about by the death of one close.

"Do you think he'll be alright?" whispered Idríl, looking at Veorza, her voice full of concern.

"I hope so," sighed Kyni. "My fear is that his revenge will consume him and he will be lost." He readjusted the backpack slung across his shoulder. It cut into his already sore shoulder yet he was beginning to get used to the pain and discomfort. "But I will make sure that doesn't happen. If the worst comes to the worst, we'll get Thorin to send him home."

"I'm glad you're here, Kyni," smiled Idríl, slipping her hand into his and squeezing gently.

"I'm glad you're here too," he replied, returning the pressure.

They walked in silence for a while, holding hands, listening to the general buzz generating from behind them. The Elves and Dwarves seemed to be getting on well; laughing and talking.

"Kyni," said Idríl, suddenly. "I'm sorry for lying to you. I thought that if you knew who I was you would treat me differently."

"What do you mean?"

"All my life I have been Idríl, daughter of Elrohir. I wanted to be someone else with you; I didn't want to be respected for my heritage, but respected for who I was and am."

Kyni gave Idríl's hand a squeeze.

"Idríl, I do respect you for who you are, heritage be damned. Though your lie to me hurt me slightly, I now understand why you did it. In fact, I didn't tell you the truth either."

"Go on," said Idríl, hesitantly.

Kyni shifted uncomfortably. Finally, he took a deep breath and spoke. "My father was Frór, son of Frerin, brother to the great Thorin Oakenshield. That was the reason I was travelling to the mountain. My parents - my adopted parents - had just told me about my heritage. I was seeking answers. And it turns out my father was captured. Captured by these 'wyverns'. That is partly why I wanted to come on this journey. And now you know."

"Kyni..." began Idríl. "I cannot get angry at you for hiding the truth as I did the same. What's in the past is in the past. Yes, we lied to each other, but we have now told the truth, so the two kind of balance out, right?"

"Well, when you put it like that," said Kyni, smiling.

"So, anymore secrets you want to tell me about?" Idríl teased.

Kyni laughed. "Well-"

Yet Kyni was interrupted by a shout, followed by cheers coming from behind them. They both turned in unison, relinquishing each other's hands.

The battalion Elves and Dwarves had formed into a wide circle. Kyni and Idríl pushed their way through the ranks and reached the centre. Upon the ground, was a Dwarf and an Elf, wrestling each other.

"Enough!" barked Kyni.

The dwarf was pulled off the Elf by two of his friends.

"This Elf accused me of stealing from him!" he shouted.

"That's because that's what you did," replied the Elf, standing up and dusting himself off.

"I did no such thing. I stumbled and used you to steady myself."

"Oh how typical of a Dwarf. Always so unsteady of their feet," sneered the Elf.

"Why you-"

"Stop," commanded Kyni. He stepped up to the Dwarf. "What is your name?"

"My name is Althjofen."

"And you?" said Kyni, turning to the Elf.

"Why should I tell you?"

"Because I asked politely," said Kyni.

"Who even are you? You're just a dwarf who everyone seems to like. To me, it looks like you're nothing. Just a lonely Dwarf who has attached himself to whatever family he can find."

"Hold your tongue," said Idríl, hotly, advancing upon the Elf.

"It's alright, Idríl." Kyni turned to address the Elf. "You want to know who I am. Fine. I am of Durin's Folk. My father was Frór, as his father before him was Frerin. My great-uncle is the great Thorin Oakenshield and I'd wager you've heard of him. I am a descendant of Kings. Do you still think I'm nobody?"

A steely silence met his words.

Kyni grunted. "Now, I'll ask you again: what is your name?"

"My name is Ruithas, my Lord," replied the Elf, a little sheepishly.

"And you believe this Dwarf stole from you?"

"I do."

"Well, Althjofen? Did you steal from him?" said Kyni, turning back to face Althjofen. He wrestled himself out from the grasp of his friends and stood up tall.

"No, my Lord. This Elf is mistaken. I tripped and he was kindly there to stop me from falling."

Kyni looked hard into the eyes of the Dwarf for a few more seconds. He thought he detected a sliver of lies within Althjofen's face yet decided to leave it.

"I believe you."

"But my dagger is gone!" said Ruithas.

"Maybe you dropped it? Wouldn't put it passed an Elf," said Althjofen innocently.

"Enough," repeated Kyni, stepping in between the two. "We will have no more arguments. Have you forgotten why we are here, altogether?" Kyni raised his voice and all the Elves and all the Dwarves stood transfixed by his words. "We are here to keep the free people of Middle-earth safe. We buried the feud between our races long ago. You know of the dangers of this journey. You know we must work together if we are to survive. So put this feeble dispute behind you and let us carry on."

Both Althjofen and Ruithas were looking down at their feet, clearly ashamed by their behaviour.

"I will not ask anymore of you," Said Kyni. "Now come, we have delayed long enough." With that, he and Idríl left them behind and began to walk on.

"What's going on?" said Thorin, who had only just turned around to see what the commotion was.

"Nothing, my Lord," replied Kyni. "Everyone's just making friends."


	15. Chapter 15 Camp

Chapter 15. Camp

They made camp just as the sun began to sink behind the mountain. Two Elves with the keenest eyes were sent to keep watch in case of any attacks. Several fires were lit, along with many tents being pitched. There was no segregation among the party: Dwarves and Elves shared food, shelter and laughter. Only one Dwarf sat alone, staring into the flames of his fire.

"Mind if I join you?" said Kyni, walking over to the Dwarf.

"Not at all," replied Althjofen, mentally shaking himself from his thoughts.

"Why do you not join your brothers?" Kyni said, sitting down next to Althjofen.

"I fear they would shun me. You spoke of fellowship and friendship, yet I am ashamed. I have something to confess." Althjofen sighed, and pulled a glittering dagger from beneath his clothes. "I apologise, my Lord. Thieving was all I had ever known until now. That's why I volunteered to join the regiment; but it seems old habits die hard."

Kyni looked at him and nodded grimly. "I suspected that the accusation was more than just an empty one." He sighed. "I understand how difficult for you this is but I will not abide theft. Hand me the dagger, I shall return it to Ruithas without suspicion, you have my word."

"You are kind, my Lord. I will not forget this; I know I do not deserve your kindness."

Althjofen handed the dagger to Kyni, who quickly slid it into his belt. "You and I are kin. What good would my preaching do if I were to ignore my own words? My kindness will only stretch so far though. Steal again and I shall send you away, to live with your shame for the rest of your life."

Althjofen simply nodded. With that, he stood up and went to join his kin. Kyni remained sat for a while longer, wondering how many more of the company were untrustworthy.

"I see Althjofen is giving you trouble."

Kyni turned around to see Thorin watching the retreating figure of Althjofen.

"Hopefully he will no longer be any trouble."

"I've known the lad since he was little," said Thorin, sitting down next to Kyni. "What is it he did this time?"

"He stole a dagger from an Elf."

"That sounds like Althjofen."

"Has he always been a thief?"

"Aye, ever since he was able to walk. He's a good one at that. Best keep an eye on him."

"He says he wants to change his ways. How can we help him if we don't trust him?" said Kyni.

"I do not know. Maybe your words will have changed him." Thorin smiled at Kyni. "Idríl told me what you did. She's quite fond of you. According to her, you managed to defuse an argument before it could get out of control. It seems you have the King's blood in you after all."

"I only did what I thought was right," muttered Kyni awkwardly.

Thorin laughed at this. "Don't we all. I was not mocking you - the ability to inspire is a dying trait nowadays."

"My aim was to rid ourselves of this petty dispute between our races, not to inspire."

"But inspire them you did," Thorin smiled encouragingly. "Come, tell me, why are you being so sour?"

"My father," Kyni admitted. "You say I have the King's blood? Then surely he did as well. What if I'm no different from him? What if I grow up to be just as capable to abandon my young as he was? I could never live with myself."

"You won't," Said Thorin flatly. "Frór's decision to refuse you was a grave mistake. I told you he showed remorse later on. Besides, you can ask him when we find him."

"If we find him..." Kyni's face was one etched in misery. Thorin sighed again.

"Being pessimistic is not going to get us anywhere. We must hope for the best."

"I suppose you are right," sighed Kyni. "How's Veorza?"

"He's coping," said Thorin. "He yearns for battle. A fire has been lit inside of him and it is not possible to quench it. I worry for him. I fear he may do something reckless."

"We can only keep a wary eye on him and hope that he doesn't."

"Indeed. Anyway," Said Thorin, standing up. "Come eat with us. Idríl has some Kine for us to eat, a meat I believe you are familiar with."

Kyni opened his mouth to reply before seeing the twinkle of mirth in Thorin's eye.

"Come," Thorin laughed.

They were halfway back to their camp when they heard it. The shrill, high-pitched sound of an Elven horn.

The two Dwarves looked at each other, before simultaneously running off in the direction of the sound.

On their way, they bumped into Idríl and Veorza, both of who were picking up their weapons.

"What is it?" said Thorin, breathlessly.

"Believe it or not, my Lord," said Veorza, sliding his sword into his scabbard. "It's orcs. An entire battalion of orcs."


	16. Chapter 16 Orc Attack

Chapter 16. Orc Attack

The orcs advanced, clamouring and bashing their swords against their shields of twilight black. The Dwarves stood their ground, their own shield raised up in front of them, prepared for any chance arrow that might be loosed at them. The Elves were nowhere to be seen.

"We will stand strong!" shouted Thorin over the racket, in amongst the Dwarves. Next to him stood Kyni and Veorza. Veorza's eyes blazed with that of vengeance, yet he did not break rank. An arrow pinged off a shield to Kyni's left, then another and suddenly the field of battle was ringing with the sound of arrows whistling through the air and breaking upon Dwarven steel.

"HOLD!" roared Thorin over the din of the arrows.

The tumult continued for a while longer; arrow after arrow came sailing towards the shield wall, and only one in ten managed to find a way through. Some passed harmlessly through the line of Dwarves; others merely grazed the legs of the Dwarves. However, a few found their targets.

A Dwarf to the right of Kyni went down with an arrow through the knee. He cried out in pain; and where he fell a large opening for the orcs became apparent.

"Elves, now!" cried Thorin. Upon his words, the Dwarves began to slowly march forwards, their shields still placed firmly in front of them.

At the same time, Elves sprung up from everywhere: they came jumping down from trees, sprang out from behind rocks and fought their way out of thickets. Idríl dropped gracefully from a tree and Kyni was reminded of the first time they'd met. Yet his memory was cut short when she loosed the first arrow. It flew straight and true, and pierced a bow-ready orc between the eyes. The rest of the Elves began to release volley after volley into the mass of orcs. They fell like marionettes whose strings had just been cut.

"Charge!"

The Elves exchanged their bows for viciously curved swords whilst the Dwarves lowered their shields, and together, united in one common cause, they charged the orc ranks.

No archers remained amongst orcs to slay any advancing foes. A few of the smaller orcs had even started to flee. At the head of the charge was Veorza, who had traded his shield for a hammer of immeasurable weight and power. He brought it down towards his enemy's head, who had raised his own sword up to parry the blow. Yet the hammer came crashing down through the sword and crushed the defenceless orc. Before his allies could rally and retaliate they were swept up in the onslaught Elves and Dwarves.

The resulting close-quarters fight was short. Kyni remembered dispatching just two orcs before the rest were all dead around them.

Only a few free-people had been seriously injured: the dwarf with the arrow through the knee, along with an Elf and one other Dwarf.

Kyni had lost sight of Idríl in the battle and sought her out to make sure she still lived. He found her cleaning her blade amongst the grass of the battlefield. She turned at the sound of his footsteps and smiled at him; her lip had been cut during the fight yet she had suffered no other wound.

"I see you're alive," said Idríl, standing up and sheathing her sword.

"Not a scratch on me, unlike you."

"The culprit lies there," she pointed towards an orc upon the ground. "He smashed his fist into my face as I turned round."

"Remind me never to get on your bad side," chuckled Kyni, before moving off to check upon other his other comrades. Thorin was nursing a cut to his arm, whilst Veorza was merely panting heavily, as the adrenaline of the fight slowly left his veins.

He also found Ruithas tenderly checking his bow for any damage. Kyni walked up to him and drew the dagger from in his belt.

"I found it in amongst the battle."

Ruithas hesitated, looking into Kyni's face, before taking the dagger from him.

"Thank you, my Lord," he said, sliding the blade into his own belt. "I know you spoke uniting as one, and I do truly want to trust the Dwarves; the only problem is that I don't."

There was a pleading look upon his face. His confusion was chewing him up from the inside, causing all his doubts to surface.

"Look, Ruithas," said Kyni, "in every race there will be dishonest folk. There has always been turmoil between your two races; there was bound to be some misgivings between some of the more strongly willed people. All I can ask is that you make and effort - you will find that they are not in fact untrustworthy people. Having said that, there are some that would do you wrong. But I will hear no more about it. Whilst you are in this company you will treat the Dwarves as though they were your own race."

Ruithas nodded. "I understand. Thank you, my Lord. I will try and please you."

And with that, he turned away from Kyni and went to re-join his kin.

The sky had begun to set, bathing the sky with a pink tinge, as Kyni wandered amongst his companions, checking upon those who were injured and mainly making his presence known.

He eventually meandered his way to Thorin, who he found looking after the Dwarf with the arrow through his knee.

"Ah, Kyni. Would you mind giving us a hand?"

"What do you want me to do?" asked Kyni, setting himself down next to the Dwarf.

"I want you to hold Gymarr down. Gymarr," said Thorin, looking down upon the injured Dwarf. "Kyni here will hold you down, whilst I take this arrow out of your knee, okay?"

Gymarr merely grunted in response, as Kyni put his full weight upon his chest.

"Okay. I first need to break off the fletchings. This shouldn't hurt too much."

There was a snap, and a small convulsion of pain as the feathers were broken off and flung away by Thorin.

"Now I need to slide the shaft out of your knee. This will hurt I'm afraid. Kyni, find something for him to bite down on."

Kyni found a small stick to the left of him and placed it in Gymarr's mouth, who bit down on it firmly.

"Okay. Ready, Gymarr? Three, two, one..." With that, Thorin pulled the arrow shaft forward in a swift movement. There was a cry of pain, and the distinct sound of wood splintering, as Gymarr bit deeply into the stick, and the arrow came sliding out from the knee. Thorin quickly ripped off some fabric from his shirt and wrapped it around the knee tightly.

"There," he said. "We shall tend to it properly when we have the provisions. For now, the main question is: can you walk?"

"Well, I can probably hobble rather efficiently," stated Gymarr, standing up.

"Good," nodded Thorin, turning away with Kyni in his wake. "We shall have two more hours rest, then we must be on our way."


	17. Chapter 17 The Road Goes Ever On and On

Chapter 17. The Road Goes Ever On and On

Their journey continued Northwards across the open plains separating Mirkwood and Erebor. Memories of his fight upon the plain washed over Kyni's mind as he walked. His hand instinctively moved down to the dagger girt at his hip. His mind wandered to his parents back in Dale. He wondered how their life was progressing without him there. Would they be happy with the quest he was journey on? Or would his father scorn him with his gruff voice? Kyni knew his mother would tell that the journey was too dangerous; he did not know what his father would say. He would most likely deem it as a necessity in Kyni's life. But they didn't know about the dragons - the constant peril that Kyni and his friends were in.

The company arrived at the great doors of Erebor without any further incidents. There they bid farewell to one of their company. Gymarr's wound had turned a nasty shade of yellow, and he could barely walk without being half-carried by two of his comrades.

Despite the loss of one of their numbers, the Free-people were very high-spirited, none more so than Veorza. The fight had ridden him of the vengeful sickness that had rested within him. Now, he walked with Kyni and Thorin, laughing and jesting as merrily as if all was right in the world.

Idríl had dropped back to talk and bond with her kindred. Kyni noticed that she was the only She-Elf in the company. In fact, she was the only female in the entire company. Though, Kyni had to admit, it was difficult to differentiate between male and female Dwarves. He had not however, actually spoken to any obvious Dwarf-woman so he speculated that this was an all male company. Kyni did not know why this bothered him, but there was something about the male to female ratio that irked him. He did not entirely trust any of his companions not to attempt to woo Idríl, particularly the Elves, who were known to be comely and well-equipped with eloquent words. He raised his concern with Thorin, who just laughed in reply.

"My dear Kyni, you have no need to worry - Idríl is completely enamoured by you."

"Really?"questioned Kyni.

"I believe so. Her eyes are constantly looking for you if she's not in your company. If she is with you, well," said Thorin, the corners of his eyes crinkling into a smile. "Even a blind man could tell of the affection between you."

Kyni gave no reply to this, but a smile crept up upon his face and remained glued there for a long time.

The company slowly journeyed up past the Lonely Mountain, making camp every night and departing early the next morning. Their path took them along the forest running parallel with the Mountain which was always contested between Elves and Dwarves as to who had ownership over it. The Dwarves had named it Skógr deila, or the Forest of Divide in the common tongue, whilst the Elves bequeathed it with the title of Eryn Eigan – the Forest of Ownership. Men however, simply referred to it as the Forest of Dispute.

Running through the centre of forest was a river. A debate broke out between Veorza and Idríl about whether to go round the edge of the forest, or to follow the river.

"It's wiser to go round," insisted Idríl.

"I see no reason why we can't go through - it'll get us to the other side quicker," replied Veorza.

"That forest is cursed."

"Elves and their superstitions," muttered Veorza, before directing his question at Idríl. "What reason do you have to believe that it is cursed?"

"You know of the age old quarrel between our races. That forest is alive. We tamed Mirkwood after it's cleansing of the Necromancer, yet Eryn Eigan was never freed from his vile sorcery. It will set us against one another, and who knows what will happen then."

"I don't think-"

"You know the tale of Thorin Oakenshield," interrupted Idríl, "Of how they wandered lost and confused for days through the forest. That same magic still lies heavily across Eryn Eigan. It was lucky that the Elves of Mirkwood saved them-"

"Saved them?! Oh we have heard a much different tale. Your people left them to wander through that forest, desperately looking for a way out. When Thorin happened to stumble upon some of your people they vanished, leaving them to the mercy of the spiders. You did not save them - you abandoned them."

"You are sorely mistaken. I don't know what twisted tale you have been told but that is a foolish explanation. King Thranduil saved them, he-"

"Enough," Thorin broke off his conversation with Kyni and strode over to the arguing pair. "This argument is pointless. Veorza, this is not like you. There is no need for conflict here. If what Idríl says is true then the forest is already affecting you. We go round."

"But sire-"

"I will hear no more. Veorza, walk with me. Idríl, you'll walk with Kyni."

The four of them lapsed into an awkward silence. Veorza's fierce look seemed to be slowly dying and Idríl looked guilty at the argument she had caused.

"Idríl," said Veorza, "I would like to apologise for my harsh words. They were unjust. It is clear to me that some foul poison does still linger upon this place."

"You need not apologise, I did not help the matter. Let us forget that this argument ever happened."

"Very well, thank you," spoke Veorza, standing awkwardly for a second before walking away; Thorin followed after him.

Idríl then turned to Kyni. "Can you not feel it?"

"Feel what?"

"The evil seeping from the trees."

"We Dwarves are not as attuned with nature as your people."

"But surely you can feel some sort of malice all around us?"

"I feel something," agreed Kyni. "But I do not feel any evil. However, I think that it is best if we swiftly move on."

And so they travelled onwards, around the edge of the Forest of Dispute. The entire company seemed to be on edge, their previously high morale lowered significantly by the dark shadow that radiated from the forest. Conversation lulled, laughter never broke up and the Elves and Dwarves separated themselves from each other.

The next two days were ones of segregation and silence. Barely a word was spoken between anyone, as they hurried along the outskirts of the forest, wishing to be rid of its plague. Eventually, the trees started to thin out. The Grey Mountains began to loom ever larger.

Slowly, the conversation picked up amongst the company. Kyni had not realised that a great weight had been pressing down upon his body. Now, as the last of the trees were left behind him, he felt free and light-hearted. Soon laughter rung out all around him, as the Free-people struck up new conversation and the plague that had afflicted them passed them by.

The continued towards the Grey Mountains for several more days, until they reached the very edge of the rocky walls.

"There is meant to be a pathway somewhere around here," mused Thorin, looking left and right. "We go left."

They eventually found the path. It wound up and up, allowing two to walk side-by-side. Thorin and Veorza went first, followed by Kyni and Idríl. Then came the rest of the company, splitting off into twos. Up they went, walking precariously along the path. The ground itself was rough and pebbled; the one wall was sharp and jagged, with many rocks jutting out at dangerous angles.

Their progress was slow as they made their way upwards. On one side of the company they had to deal with razor-sharp rocks protruding out; on the other was the vast open space of a perilous drop.

"Stop," ordered Thorin.

Kyni had been so focused on not plummeting to his death that he had not realised they'd reached a fork in the road.

"What do we do now?" he enquired.

"We split up," said Thorin, firmly. He turned to face the company. "The left column will follow Veorza and Idríl. The right will follow me and Kyni. Say your goodbyes."

There was murmuring amongst the Free-people but no one dared object to Thorin.

"Kyni..."

He turned around and looked at Idríl. Her face was etched with concern.

"Just be careful, won't you?" she said.

"Yes, mother," replied Kyni, chuckling.

"Seriously, Kyni." She stepped closer and grasped his arm. "I fear that no matter what you find, some pain will be caused to you."

"I promise I shall look after myself."

"Move out!" shouted Thorin, looking at Kyni before turning away.

"You look after yourself as well," whispered Kyni, pulling Idríl closer. She leant down and they kissed. Their lips remained pressed together for a few seconds before Kyni broke apart from Idríl and turned away.

He did not look back.


	18. Chapter 18 Perilous Paths

Chapter 18. Perilous Paths

Progress became even slower for Kyni's division. The trail leading upwards became even narrower and more precarious; the company had to resort to slowly edging their way along with their backs to the wall, whilst still avoiding the serrated edges of the rocks.

However, it eventually opened out into a path that was possible to walk normally along. Despite the separation of the group, spirits remained relatively high, with the gentle buzz of conversation still meandering its way through them. Yet Kyni's mind had begun to wander. Idríl's parting words had lodged themselves deep inside him and were going around in circles. Fear began to return to him, a fear he had not felt since his clash with the wyverns.

"Thorin," said Kyni, with a warble of worry within his voice. "what do you think we shall find?"

"Truth be told lad, I have no idea," sighed Thorin. "I do not even know if this quest will yield anything other than pain. The Grey Mountains are large; spread across many leagues. We do not know where our foes lurk. They could be around the next bend or they could be on the other side of the mountain."

"And my father?"

"Kyni, worrying about your father has no benefit, for any of us. We may find him, we may not. Either way, you must brace yourself for some pain."

"What do you mean?"

Thorin sighed again. "Your father has been captured, which means two things: either he's their prisoner, or he's dead. If he is alive then he will be weak, most likely delusional. He may not recognise you. In fact, he may not recognise any of us. You must prepare yourself for that possibility, Kyni, else it will consume you."

Their conversation lapsed into one of silence, as they made their way further forwards along the winding road. Thorin showed no sign of remorse for the harsh words he had spoken to Kyni, nor did he show any sign of slowing his relentless pace.

A change had come over Thorin, ever since the quarrel outside of the Forest. He seemed more withdrawn, incorrigible. His jaw remained set, and there was a stony look within his eyes. Even the way he walked had changed: stiff and upright, whereas before he had walked with the calm composure that authority had given him.

"Is there anything wrong, my Lord?" asked Kyni hesitantly.

"Of course there is something wrong," snapped Thorin, "we're on a quest of impending doom, with barely any chance of actually finding our enemy. I've lost one of my closest advisors, as well as being separated from Veorza. Sometimes I just wish there was someone else I could talk to."

"What do you mean?"

"Someone who understands me, who understands what power does to you. It corrupts you. It pushes your friends away. You spend every waking minute fighting against its allure and for what?"

Thorin became more animated as he spoke, gesturing wildly with his hands. His pace sped up dangerously, and Kyni was worried he might lose his footing and go plummeting over the edge.

"My friend-" began Kyni.

"I am not your friend, Kyni. I am your Lord," said Thorin harshly.

Kyni was stunned by the abruptness of this remark. He struggled for a while, attempting to formulate some words.

But before he could, Thorin spoke again. "I'm sorry, Kyni. I did not mean that. I only meant-"

But he was cut off by a loud screech from above them. As one, the entire company stopped moving, and the chatter ceased to be heard. They were all listening out for any more sounds.

All Kyni could heard was the wind, rushing around him and bashing itself against the rocks. Then came the shaking.

Small rocks began to fall around them, as the very mountain itself began to tremble. Then a monstrous roar was heard. It echoed all around them, reverberating off the cliff-face. And then there was silence. A silence so absolute that it appeared even the weather had been repressed by the roar. The silence was suddenly shattered by the sound of metal rasping against leather. Kyni looked left and saw that Thorin had drawn his sword, who turned towards Kyni and gave the slightest nod.

All along the line of the free-people, his action was mirrored. Sword after sword appeared, and were gripped tightly in the hands of their owners. More silence followed, as the shrill ring of the metal died away in the wind.

Then came another shriek. And another. And another. Soon the air was rent with the sound of cawing. Some of the company dropped their weapons to cover their ears, and their weapons went tumbling down the cliff. Then one Dwarf lost their balance and fell, screaming as he went. Kyni watched in horror, as his body gradually got smaller and smaller, before disappearing entirely amongst the mist that clung all around the Grey Mountains.

"Kyni, we need to move," said Thorin, slowly edging his way along the path, keeping his back to the wall. Kyni merely gulped and nodded, before beckoning the rest of the company to imitate them.

Slowly, they edged their way along, hugging the wall for dear life. Kyni bumped his head upon a rock but paid it no heed, for his eyes were constantly darting between the sky, looking for any flying enemies, and his feet, making sure not to lose his balance. That was when he heard it.

The steady beating of wings, grew louder and louder.

"Brace yourselves!" roared Thorin, readying his blade.

From over the mountain came dozens of winged beasts, all shrieking and clamouring for a fight. They dove down towards the company, talons extended. The company swiped desperately upwards as the beasts neared them, hoping to at least ward them off. Yet some swung too early, and were thrown off the cliff. The lucky ones were just knocked off, but several were pierced by the sharp talons and pulled away from the wall, before being inexorably dropped to the ground miles below.

"Thorin, we have to keep moving," panted Kyni, swiping at a descending Wyvern.

Thorin nodded, swiping once more before shuffling further along.

"Move!" shouted Kyni over the din of battle.

Their progress was slow, painfully slow, as the beasts continued to drive them away from the cliff, one by one. The Dwarf to the right of Kyni slipped upon a loose rock and went cascading down the mountain. Another Elf managed to pierce the Wyvern, before having the sword wrenched from his grasp. His footing was lost and he fell, screaming as he went.

Their numbers continued to dwindle, as they moved their way along the ledge. Kyni lost count of the amount of times he swung his sword to fend off his attackers, and his arm started to feel like lead. Yet he battled on, staying close to Thorin, who had a grim look upon his face. Then Thorin fell. Backwards. Kyni quickly followed him and found himself inside a small cave, extending backwards into the darkness. They paused to catch their breath, keeping a wary eye on the entrance. A slow trickle of survivors found their way into the cavern, joining Kyni and Thorin.

Inside the cave they could easily beat off the attacks of beasts, who had no room to manoeuvre due to their wings. Eventually they retreated, screeching as they flew over the heads of the survivors.

"Is this it? Is this all who survived?" asked Thorin, scanning the room.

There were merely three Dwarves and six Elves remaining. All of them looked exhausted and grubby, but at least they were alive.

"We've lost far too many men." Thorin sounded defeated. He slumped against the wall and dropped his sword, sending it clattering onto the floor. "It's over, Kyni. We have no hope."

"Oh it is far from over," came a voice from the shadows. Kyni whipped round, and saw a yellow-toothed grin and red eyes glaring out at him from deeper inside the cave.

"Archers, fire!" called the shadows.

"THORIN!" shouted Kyni, diving to the side. He heard the whistle of arrows flying through the air, and the thud as they pierced flesh. He turned his head and saw the rest of his companions staggering, arrows embedded deeply within them. The ones in the mouth of the cavern were forced back off the edge by their wounded friends.

"Get off me!"

Kyni turned his head again to see Thorin being dragged off into the darkness.

"Let him go," roared Kyni, picking up Thorin's sword as he stood up. But that was as far as he got.

There was a shuffle of movement behind him, and something heavy split against Kyni's head. He stumbled, dazed and confused, before toppling forwards and letting the darkness consume him.


	19. Chapter 19 Nightmarish Reality

Chapter 19. Nightmarish Reality

Two floating red lights were looking down upon him. He tried to swat them away but they merely danced out of his reach. A chasm opened up beneath the lights, revealing rows of small, yellow-jagged rocks.

A sound was then heard. A deep, throaty sound, which matched the floating movements of the rocks.

That was when a face swam into focus above Kyni.

It was leering, its red eyes twinkling with evil. Its teeth were stained a luminescent yellow. The orc gnashed the ragged teeth together before speaking.

"Oh look who's finally awake. If it would please _'my Lord_ ', would you kindly stand up?"

Kyni merely glared at the Orc.

"I said," continued the orc, kicking Kyni in the stomach. "Would you please stand up?"

When Kyni just lay there in pain, the Orc nodded at the shadows and two other Orcs heaved him up onto his feet. He staggered, before managing to find his balance. He drew himself defiantly up to his full height and looked into the evil eyes of the Orc.

"Well done. Now, follow me. Or do I have to drag you?" said the Orc, grinning manically.

It turned its back on Kyni. Kyni considered throttling the Orc from behind until he noticed the sinister silhouettes of two other Orcs hidden in the shadows. So he had no choice but to follow.

"My name is Grukk. And welcome, to the humble abode of our leader," announced the Orc, turning to face Kyni, now walking backwards.

"And who is your mighty leader?" asked Kyni, his voice dripping with hostility.

Grukk merely laughed at anger. "You'll find out soon enough. Come."

He turned around again and left Kyni no choice but to follow. The tunnel in which Kyni was being marched through was only dimly lit. Crude lanterns, made out of some black metal, were attached to the ceiling and they burnt a dull green, painting the walls with an eerie light.

"Where are we?" said Kyni, suddenly wondering how far he had been taken.

"Why we are in the same cave that you rudely decided to take refuge in," replied Grukk over his shoulder.

"So we're still in the Grey Mountains?"

"The Mountains are much vaster than you'd expect. We made these tunnels, digging deep into the Mountain. Of course, our leader needed a lot of space so we dug and dug and dug. And now he rests in our most inner chamber, where you shall soon join him."

Kyni did not humour Grukk by replying. Instead, he steeled himself for whatever he was about to face.

"Where's Thorin?" said Kyni abruptly.

"Who?" enquired Grukk innocently.

"The other Dwarf you captured," growled Kyni, clearly not interested in playing games.

"Oh. Him," replied Grukk in a disinterested voice. "He's already in the main chamber. We have... Plans for you that connect closely with your kin."

"What are these planned?"

Grukk threw his head back and laughed. Yet he did not answer Kyni's question.

Fear started to build up inside of Kyni. He did not know what was expected of him, nor did he have any means of escape. He was flanked by two Orc brutes, following an Orc who was brimming with arrogant power. He hadn't even met their leader yet, but from what Kyni had managed to deduce from Grukk's clues, he was in serious peril.

The cavern was the complete opposite of the vast caverns in Erebor. The tunnels merely went straight, burrowing their way down into the heart of the Mountain. The walls were jagged and unhewn, opposed to the walls of Erebor which were lovingly smoothed and sculpted. Such was the nature of Orcs. They performed no acts with love in their hearts. They preferred sharp objects to those of beauty. The more perilous and deadly something was, the greater an Orcs desire became. They existed solely to spread malice throughout Middle-earth, in the manners seen fit by their masters.

Kyni was led, in utter silence further down the tunnel. As they went, more and more Orcs joined them, seemingly out of nowhere. They started to call and jeer at Kyni, who let the insults wash over him. He kept a calm and composed exterior but inside he was trembling all over; he could see no way out of the predicament, nor any chance of survival.

He was part of some twisted game, whether he liked it or not. He was being paraded through crowds of Orcs, all vying for some sort of entertainment.

They arrived at a door.

"Behind here," shouted Grukk to be heard over the clamour. "Lies your fate."

There came a terrible roar from behind the door, quelling all the catcalls and jeering.

"This," whispered Grukk. "Is where your worst nightmares become reality."

He pushed open the door, and shoved Kyni inside. He laughed one more time, before closing the door behind him. Kyni stumbled forwards, as he was plunged into complete darkness.

He stood up, feeling naked and vulnerable. His hands balled into fist. He took a step forwards, turning his head left and right, attempting to make out something.

There came a loud metallic bang which caused Kyni just jumped, startled. Then another came, and soon the air was rent with bangs and clashes. Kyni was forced to his knees and covered his ears, as the sounds surrounded him. He felt as if they were physically banging against his eardrums, causing his head to split open.

And then, they ceased. The sounds slowly ebbed away, echoing through the cavern. Kyni eventually got back to his feet, his head still pounding.

"I WILL NOT PLAY YOUR GAMES," shouted Kyni, as loud as he could.

"The brave hero finally finds his voice."

The room was flooded with light. Torches burst into flame all around Kyni. And then the jeering commenced again.

The light illuminated a large ring. The floor was smoothed stone, whilst the walls were covered in sharpened rocks. Above the walls, was a large domed cage. Outside of this cage, were Orcs, in their thousands. They banged their jagged weapons against the cage, causing the din to start again. But Kyni did not show any weakness. It stood up straight and proud, ignoring the beating drum inside of his head. There came a low chuckle.

"You have courage, young one."

The sounds of the exhilarated Orcs died down at the voice. And that was when the final shadows were lit up. There was a blinding flash of light, which forced Kyni to shield his eyes. When he looked again, he cried out in fear and stumbled back a few paces.

There, upon a crude and misshapen stone throne, sat a dragon.

"Welcome, Kyni, son of Frór." Smoke pillowed from the dragon's snout, as his face contracted into something resembling a grin. His tail was wrapped around his body, its sharp spikes glistening in the glow thrown from the torches. His scales were of red and gold, which the light reflected off, surrounding him in a dazzlingly white aura.

"Where are my manners," purred the dragon. "I, my dear challenger, am Smaug."

Shock flooded through Kyni. "But, you were slain, by Bard of Lake-town? How is it you have survived so long after many saw you perish at his hand?"

Smaug roared with laughter. It shook the cave, showering dust and debris everywhere.

"Fool. Are you really that naive to believe that I am the same dragon who terrorised your lands years ago? I expected more from a descendant of rulers. No, challenger, I am Smaug the Second. The son of your dreaded _'Smaug the Magnificent'_."

"And you've been hiding here for how long, not daring to show your cowardly face?" goaded Kyni.

Smaug roared. A gout of flames sprayed forth from his mouth, which stopped short of Kyni, causing him to flinch.

"Another insult like that and I shall not be so lenient," growled Smaug. "I have given you a chance to live, or has that escaped your attention? My servants could have slaughtered you along with the rest of your people but you were spared."

"Why?" asked Kyni, perplexed.

"Why, challenger, for entertainment," laughed Smaug. "You are a descendant of Kings, are you not? Kings renowned for their wisdom, their strength. So, I offer you this: face my champion, and defeat him, and you may go free. Face him and lose... Well, I think even one as puerile as yourself can work out that outcome. Do you accept?"

"You haven't left me much of a choice."

"I want an answer, challenger."

Kyni drew himself up to his fullest height again and raised his voice.

"Yes, Smaug the Second, I accept your challenge."

"Capital! Grukk, bring forth our champion."

A sword was thrown down at the feet of Kyni. He bent to pick it up and noticed how blunt and rusted it was. He realised was not meant to win this.

"My dear spectators," called Smaug to the room at large. "May I introduce our champion." He turned to look directly at Kyni, "Frór, son of Frerin. Father of Kyni, our new challenger."

And the Son of Smaug grinned.


	20. Chapter 20 Father & Son

Chapter 20. Father & Son

"Oh, and one more thing, Kyni," said Smaug, in a voice full of amusement. "As has been stated, if you win then you are free to go, and if you lose you will die. However, I neglected to mention the other ultimatum."

From behind Smaug appeared an orc, dragging a chain behind him. Tethered to the chain, like a rabid dog, was a bruised and bloodied Thorin.

"You're not the only Dwarf we spared. So, if you do fail to kill my Champion, then not only will you suffer a timely death, but your dear friend, comrade, and Lord, will also meet his demise. Good luck."

And with that, there came the sound of a door grinding against its hinges. Kyni turned to face the opening chasm of darkness, his heart beating hard and fast against his chest. Fear consumed him, as the choice he had to make finally sunk in: kill his father to save his own life as well as Thorin's, or let himself be struck down. His fist clenched white against the handle of his sword, as he attempted to steady himself.

And out stepped his father from behind the doors. His shoulders were rising and falling as he marched with purpose into the centre of the arena.

"Father, it's me!" called Kyni, yet he was met with silence from the advancing Dwarf. He did not even glance at Kyni.

Frór arrived at the centre of the ring and lifted his arms. The serrated edge of his sword glinted in the light from the torches, and the orcs began to cheer and clamour for their champion. Then he looked directly up at Smaug.

"My Champion," spoke Smaug softly. "You may begin."

With that, Frór finally turned to face Kyni; but the look he gave him was not one of recognition. A fire seemed to burn in his eyes. The skin around them seemed to be stretched and stained yellow. Now Kyni saw him properly, he noticed how gaunt he looked.

"Father, it's me," repeated Kyni in a whisper.

Again, no reply was made by Frór. Instead, he began to slowly step forwards, his sword raised. Kyni adjusted the grip upon his and steeled himself. Then, Frór charged.

His first swing came flying across, with the intention of decapitating Kyni. But Kyni ducked, avoiding the blow, and pushed his father away from him.

"I don't want to hurt you," cried Kyni, lowering his sword slightly.

Frór roared in reply and charged again. His next swing was met by Kyni's blade. They clashed together in a shower of sparks, before Kyni let his father's sword grate along his, before flicking his wrist and pushing, sending Frór backwards, off-balance. Kyni quickly followed with a thrust, but it was knocked sideways by his opponent's blade, who countered. Kyni just managed to get his blade up in time to block, yet the tip of the blade cut deep into Kyni's arm. He grimaced and felt the blood rush through his body.

He attacked, pushing Frór backwards, not letting him get a counter in. Strike after strike was deflected in a shower of sparks, as the adrenaline began to take hold of him. He no longer cared who his opponent was; all he cared about was survival, and he could see only way of ensuring that.

The flow of the fight changed. Kyni swung too wide and Frór was able to capitalise upon this with a counter, catching Kyni on the arm again. Then it was his turn to attack. He pressed Kyni hard, who only just managed to get his blade up.

Their blades sung a sweet song throughout the cave. The orcs were cheering and booing in equal measure. Each time Frór landed a heavy blow they erupted in an explosion of cheers. But every time Kyni came close they hissed and heckled him.

They continued to trade blows, the advantage going back and forth between them. And so their war raged on, neither managing to deliver a killing blow. Kyni's arms were covered in small cuts, and he had a scratch across his eye. Yet the worst Frór had was a bruise upon his cheek, from where Kyni had smashed him with the butt of his sword.

He realised his dull blade was not enough on its own to do any serious damage, unless he had a clear opening; so he decided upon a new tactic.

He quickly danced out of Frór's reach and readied himself again, bouncing on the balls of his feet.

Frór charged once more with the rage of a bull, yet Kyni had expected this. He stepped sideways, allowing the blade to pass through thin air, before hitting his blade against the base of his father's and twisting his hand with a flick of his wrist. Frór's blade went flying up into the air, and Kyni shouldered Frór, sending him sprawling onto the floor. Frór's sword came spinning down and Kyni expertly caught it in his deft left hand, turning to face his father. He'd stood up and regained his balance, his chest still heaving.

"Now the tables have turned," said Kyni, throwing his own rusted sword down at Frór's feet. Frór locked eyes with Kyni for a few minutes, before slowly bending down to pick up the blade. Then he sprang up with agility, catching Kyni by surprise. The rusty blade caught Kyni in the wounded shoulder and he cried out, staggering backwards. But he did not drop his sword.

Frór roared again and advanced, swinging left and right. Kyni managed to block the blows but barely. The dull blade was the only thing that saved him from losing a limb. Thrice it caught his arm, yet it did no more than sting him. He felt his anger building through each hit and he retaliated, deflecting a blow and following through with a downward swipe of his own.

This caught Frór in the shoulder, yet he showed pain upon his face.

And now Kyni had the advantage again. He swung, jabbed and stabbed, dealing small wounds to Frór aas he did. With each attack, Kyni could see his opponent getting weaker. His blade took longer to be raised, his movements were sluggish.

Then Frór's blade was knocked out of his hand. Kyni raised his sword and pointed it at his father's throat, breathing heavily.

"What will you do now, challenger?" goaded Smaug, shouting over the Orcish clamour.

The two Dwarves remained motionless for a long while, their heaving chests the only things moving.

The anger that had filled Kyni slowly ebbed away, removing the mask that had been cast around him. He now saw his father clearly before him, utterly at his mercy. He lowered his sword.

Kyni turned to address Smaug...

And was buffeted sideways. Frór had launched himself forwards, not able to accept defeat. They tumbled together, Frór's arms locked around Kyni. The rusted sword clanged out of Kyni's hand and they both fell onto the ground.

Kyni managed to throw Frór off him, rounding on him with a roar of anger. And he drove the point of his sword straight through his father's chest and the whole cave went silent.

Frór let out a little gasp, as the blade pierced through his skin. The sickly light died within his eyes. Kyni's breathing slowly died down, returning to normal, as he gazed into his father's eyes. Frór's eyes flickered with more life at that moment just before death claimed him, than they had since his capture.

"Kyni... Forgive me," he whispered, before falling backwards.

His body made a dull thud as it hit the floor. Blood spurted out from his chest, as Kyni dropped to his knees, letting the stained blade fall from his hands.

"Father," he cried. Yet Frór gave no reply. His eyes stared without seeing, looking up to the heavens.

Kyni remained on his knees, shaking uncontrollably. A lone tear fell from his cheek and splashed onto the chest of his father. The father who he had killed.

"Well well, this is a turn of events," said Smaug smugly.

Kyni's head snapped up to look at him. He stood up, pointing at Smaug.

"I did what was asked. I killed my own father, my own flesh and blood, for your enjoyment. Now let me and Thorin go, as you promised."

"So I did," purred Smaug. "Grukk?"

Grukk the Orc appeared next to Smaug, smiling manically.

"Let Thorin go free."

Grukk laughed and drew his blade.

"NO," cried Kyni, stumbling forwards. But too late. Grukk's blade slid effortlessly through Thorin's heart, who choked, locking eyes with Kyni. Then he wilted against Grukk, who stepped back and let the lifeless body of the Lord of Erebor slump to the floor.

"Now," said Smaug. "What to do with you?"


	21. Chapter 21 Run

Chapter 21. Run

His shoulder slammed into the rocky wall as he sped round the corner. Sweat drenched his brow, as the adrenaline raced through his body. An arrow ricocheted off the wall a few inches next to his head. He could hear the screams and laughter of the orcs that were following him.

Kyni pushed himself off of the wall and went speeding on along the passage, hoping beyond hope that this was the way to the exit.

He did not know how many turns he had made since leaving the main chamber. His mind was still reeling from all that had happened. He'd killed his own father, his own flesh and blood. Killed him to save his own life, and more over the life of Thorin Stonehelm, his Lord. But Smaug had never planned to keep his promise, Kyni saw that now. It had always been his intention to make Kyni suffer as much as possible. And now he was stuck in another twisted game for the dragon's own amusement.

"Run, little rabbit, run!" cackled a voice from somewhere behind Kyni. It echoed all around him and he thought it could've belonged to Grukk, yet he was not willing to find out.

He ran on, as the occasional arrow came whizzing past him. He was panting now, as he felt himself begin to fatigue. Nevertheless, he ploughed on, for the fear of what would happen if he were to be caught again was greater than his weariness.

Kyni took a left fork along a tunnel, lit with the eerie green light that he had begun to despise. Did this tunnel look familiar? He was not sure. His mind had begun to play tricks on him. He flinched sideways when a shadow cast by the light rippled across the wall.

The tumult of the orcs seemed to have become quieter and Kyni risked a glance behind him. He could no longer see any dark shapes following him, save for those shadows that danced upon the surface of the cave.

It was then that he noticed an alcove amongst the rocks. He knew that he would have to wander for days in this godforsaken cave before he found an exit; his best hope was to hide and eventually follow an orc who knew the path. He quickly hid himself, squeezing his way into the shelf in the wall. He was not overly comfortable, but he kept telling himself that it would be more pleasant than what awaited him if he were dragged in front of Smaug again.

Soon the hammering of feet upon the ground could be heard again, sending jolts of pain up Kyni's spine. Then they came thundering past, shrieking for their prey, who had somehow managed to elude them.

Kyni heard Grukk shout. "You lot, go that way. I'll take the middle and the rest of you can go right. Do not let him escape, or on your head be it!"

They scurried off, and Kyni knew he had to choose one group to follow. After a few seconds of internally debating, Kyni decided his best chance lay in following Grukk's company, as he seemed to distrust his fellow orcs to complete the job, and would therefore most likely head straight to the exit and guard it.

So Kyni wriggled his way out of the nook and stealthily followed after Grukk. This was a time when Kyni was thankful for his life in Dale. Dwarves from Erebor were notorious for their inability to creep by silently. However, being brought up amongst Men and the occasional Elf had made Kyni much more agile than his kinsmen from the mountain. And so he kept to the shadows, avoiding the pools of light, always keeping an eye on the groups of orcs ahead of him. From what he could see in the semi-darkness, there were at least four orcs running for the cave's mouth. Kyni lost sight of them a few times, but the racket which they made whilst running made it palpable about which route they were taking: the chink of their rusted armour, the heavy footsteps of their boots and, above all else, the incessant sound that issued from their mouths.

Kyni continued to tail them, as they led him through the maze of connecting tunnels. The complexity of the mountain would have caused any non-Orcish being to go insane if he were lost on his own within. Orcs were well-known for several things: their evil and treacherous ways, their ability to see clearly in almost complete darkness, and their sense of direction. No Orc ever got lost inside their caves, as they dwelt so often in dark places and had to rely on their memory in order to navigate their perpetual and complex homes.

The sound of clanking was suddenly heard from behind Kyni. He panicked. He could see nowhere to hide, nowhere to go to avoid detection. As the footsteps got louder and louder, Kyni weighed up his options. He could either stop and lose his guides in order to hide, or he could hope that the Orc would stop before it reached him. Or perhaps he could quickly and silently take down the Orc and then continue his stalking. He listened out intently, trying his best to determine whether it was a singular Orc or more. He saw Grukk and his companions disappear around a corner and knew that that would be a perfect ambush point. He made his choice.

Arriving at the corner, he took cover behind the wall, pushing his body up against it in order to reduce the chance of being spotted first. He waited, listening as the footsteps of Grukk's ensemble grew reticent, and the footfalls of the unknown pack became louder and louder.

It reached the corner and Kyni pounced before it had time to register him. He lunged, tackling the Orc to the ground. Before it had time to cry out, Kyni slid his down and wrenched its crude blade from its sheath and planted it firmly into the throat of the beast. It let out a little gurgle, tensing under Kyni, before slumping against the ground and passing into the afterlife.

Whipping around, Kyni quickly scanned for any other Orcs. Luckily, the now deceased Orc had been alone. With that, Kyni scuttled off, holding the knife so the blade was behind him, ready for any other creature that dared to attack him.

He spent a while straining his ears as he walked, hoping that he might hear the sound of clanking or shrieking coming from in front of him. Eventually he heard the echoing, shrill cry of an Orc and quickly stalked after it.

He turned another corner and that was when he saw the exit, in front of which stood three Orcs and Grukk, awaiting Kyni.

"Ah there you are!" exclaimed Grukk, grinning again and drawing his own blade. "We were beginning to worry you'd left without saying goodbye."

"I'll kill you for what you've done to me," growled Kyni, taking a step forwards.

"With what?" laughed Grukk. "your hands? Come come, Kyni. We all have blades and you merely have your fists, as big as they are."

Kyni clenched his hand around the knife. Clearly Grukk had not spotted it yet and this gave Kyni a slight advantage.

"Hokulk," said Grukk, nodding at one of his fellows. "Why don't you bring me the Dwarf's head?"

Hokulk shrieked with pleasure and sprang forwards. He sprinted towards Kyni, his blade raised. Kyni coolly stood still, waiting until Hokulk got closer. Then he quickly lunged forwards, driving the point of his knife deep inside the belly of the attacking Orc. He ripped it out, span, and hurled the blade towards the three remaining creatures. It perfectly struck the Orc standing to the right of Grukk between the eyes, who keeled backwards and lay dead upon the floor.

Grukk merely looked down at the body, bemused. "I see you did have a blade. No matter; you no longer do. Snaglak, with me. No running ahead now - you don't want to end up like Hokulk."

Kyni stooped and picked up Hokulk's fallen blade and brandished it in the direction of Grukk.

"Ah," said Grukk, slowly moving towards Kyni with Snaglak. "No matter, two against one is still a large advantage, wouldn't you agree?"

Kyni had to admit that. His survival was not looking likely. He debated turning and fleeing back down the tunnels, but knew he would get lost through all the winds and turns and would never find the exit again. So he stood his ground, and waited for Grukk to make the first move.

But he never made a move. Kyni heard a scuffle from behind him and instinctively ducked to the side. An arrow went flying over his head, skimming through his hair, and lodge itself within the chest of Snaglak, who crumpled.

"You idiots!" steamed Grukk, throwing his arms above his head. "We had him, we could've taken him, we-"

But Kyni had sprung forwards, his blade aiming straight for Grukk's heart. Grukk's blade came down, ready to parry, but at the last second, Kyni feinted and instead sliced Grukk's arm, causing him to curse and drop his sword. And then Kyni was past him, running for the mouth of the cave. That was when the thought hit him: how was he going to get down? If he attempted to shuffle back along the ledge, he would be pierced by several arrows. If he jumped, he would certainly be leaping to his doom. No sooner had this thought entered his mind than another voice seemed to speak to him, and it simply said:

 _Jump._

And so he did. He leapt out of the jaws of the beast, and soared through the sky like a bird... before plummeting downwards.


	22. Chapter 22 Saviour in Brown

Chapter 22. Saviour in Brown

The initial sense of dread that had taken hold of Kyni after his leap of faith seemed to have diminished slightly. As the air sharply whipped its way around his falling body, and the ground slowly appeared below him, eagerly waiting to consume him, a strange feeling of calm stole over his body. Although he was well aware of the imminent death that awaited him below, he no longer feared it. It was as though an inner voice was whispering words of comfort to him, leaving him in a tranquil frame of mind. He was prepared to embrace the end, to welcome the after-life with open arms. After all, his father now lay dead by his very own hands, and the one Dwarf who he felt he would've been able to follow now also lay dead at the cruel jape of a sinister foe. Smaug was, now Kyni thought about it, every bit as dangerous and tyrannical as his father had been; possibly even more so, as he not only had greed ruling his heart, but vengeance as well. He just hoped that the other free-people would be able to find some way to counter his malice, his evil, and triumph in victory.

Kyni's thoughts turned inexorably to Idríl, his She-Elf of beauty. He thought of how her hair fell like a curtain around her, with that one strand of silver hair that dangled tantalisingly in front of her; how her green eyes pierced him and easily melted his heart away, leaving him bare and utterly at her mercy.

The ground suddenly seemed very close when Kyni looked down. He could make out the Lonely Mountain in the distance, looming high above the plains and forests near the Forest of Mirkwood. Once again, the Mountain appeared to be consuming the sun, refusing to let anyone else enjoy its warm glow. Kyni took this as a last kindness from the Mountain itself. It wanted his last few minutes on Middle-earth to be ones free of the dazzling light of the sun, leaving him to take in his surroundings.

And then the breath was driven from his body. His body hit an object soaring through the air. He looked down, gaping, and saw that he was now riding on the back of a Great Eagle.

It turned its head as best it could to look at Kyni, opened its beak, and spoke. "I regret to inform you that it is not your time to die."

Kyni could not think of a suitable response, and merely firmly closed his mouth and clung on tightly to the feathered back of his saviour.

They flew on several miles more, passing over the trees that made up Mirkwood. Looking down, clenching his knees tightly against the neck of the Eagle, Kyni thought he could make out the great spire of Thranduil's Keep, its tip pointing through the thick green leaves that obscured the ground of the Forest.

They continued to sail through the air, eventually reaching the most Southern point of the Forest. There, the Great Eagles began to spiral down, gradually bringing Kyni closer and closer to the ground.

There they landed, seemingly at the Southern-most entrance to the Greenwood.

"Here I must leave you and return to my Lord," spoke the Great Eagles, once Kyni had slid off his back. "Until our next meeting, young Dwarf."

"Thank you, for my life. Before you go, I must ask one thing," said Kyni. "what is your name?"

"You may call me Thoron-lim, for that is what I am to you. Farewell."

With a strong beat of his wings, the Eagle off, soaring off into the distance. Kyni watched him fly away for a while, before looking around. He suddenly realised that he had no direction in which to travel in. He had been saved, then left to find his own way. Kyni was contemplating whether to follow the path in Mirkwood or to chance going in the opposite direction when he heard a voice.

"A little birdie told me we would find here."

He turned and saw a ferrety old man hobbling towards him. He wore a peculiar hat upon his head and was clothed all in brown. His beard however, was an amalgamation of grey and black, the strands interlaced in an unkempt look.

"I beg your pardon?" said Kyni, a bit startled.

"Quite literally, a little birdie told me I would find here."

With that, the man raised his hand. A bird flew down and perched itself, tweeting as it did.

"Meet one of my friends. He told me that you were brought here by the Eagle."

"Right," said Kyni, slightly bemused.

"Forgive me, where are my manners!" exclaimed the figure, slapping a hand to his forehead. "I am Radagast the Brown. And this fellow, is little Greyhame. Say hello, Greyhame."

"Sorry but, _the_ Radagast?" asked Kyni, interrupting the birds chirp. "Radagast the wizard?"

"Not anymore I'm afraid," said Radagast cheerily. "I am now a mere friend of birds and beasts."

"So you're now Radagast the Brown, Ex-Wizard?"

"Quite right. A huge weight off my shoulders, let me tell you. Too many duties as a Wizard, much more simple if you are merely regarded as a crazy old man."

"Now then," continued Radagast. "I imagine you have many questions but they shall have to wait. If you would kindly follow me."

With that, Radagast turned and marched back into the forest of Mirkwood, leaving Kyni no choice but to hurriedly follow him.

"Welcome once more to Mirkwood," said Radagast, gesturing amiably around the trees. "Though I do not think you have ever entered this part."

"Where are you leading me?" questioned Kyni.

"I lead you now to Amon Lanc, my home. Formerly known as Dol Guldur."

"I do not know the history of that place, other than the sinister reputation it holds." said Kyni darkly.

"Allow me to regale the tale then. In the year 2941 - the same year Thorin Oakenshield led his company to Erebor - the White Council drove the Necromancer out of his hole whence he was hiding. He fled, to where we did not know. A mere ten years later, Sauron revealed himself from his new home of Mordor, and sent three of his most trusted servants to re-occupy Dol Guldur: the ringwraiths. Khamûl was the name of their leader, and from atop their dark fortress, they caused strife and left many of the woodland animals stricken with fear. They plagued the forest. Causing a sickness to fall over it. Eventually however, Thranduil saw reason and marched upon Dol Guldur. Along with Galadriel, the Lady of Light, they ripped Dol Guldur down to its very foundations. None could withstand the Ring of Galadriel, except perhaps Sauron himself; but he was not there. And so the fortress was named anew: Amon Lanc. And there you have the recent history of Dol Guldur."

"And how did it come to pass that you now call that place your home?"

For the first time, Radagast shifted uneasily. "Well. Amon Lanc became the capital of Lord Celeborn's rule after Sauron was overthrown. Yet he was unhappy lingering in Middle-earth. Only a few years ago, he ventured to Rivendell, where he dwells. His intention however, is to leave these shores and journey to the Undying Lands to join his kin. I took it upon myself to guard Amon Lanc from any further assaults. From there, I can easily survey the forest and help any creatures that may need healing."

"So you're merely temporarily occupying it?" asked Kyni.

"I suppose you could say that, yes," mused Radagast. "But enough of this. You now know the history, and I was hoping that that would satisfy your inquisitive nature. Behold, we are nearing the Naked Hill."

Passing through another cluster of trees, the stronghold appeared. Kyni gaped. Upon a hill, the towers of Amon Lanc rose up, integrating seamlessly with the very tops of the tallest trees. The spires seemed to sparkle in the mid-morning light. The grass around it was of a healthy green colour and no evidence remained of the dark powers that had once dwelt there.

"It's beautiful." whispered Kyni.

"Do you think? I personally perceive it as bordering on excessive. Each to their own I suppose," said Radagast happily. "Now, do follow me again. I suppose you deserve a proper explanation. And some food and rest no doubt?"


	23. Chapter 23 Amon Lanc

Chapter 23. Amon Lanc

The grief of his recent plights and perils did not strike Kyni until the twilight hours of his first night at Amon Lanc. His dreams had twisted and slithered in amongst each other, floating through his mind.

His dreams twisted and slithered in and amongst each other, much like how the serpents move. He had been back in the arena, facing down Frór, his father. Yet there was no audience, no pavilion from whence their fight could be seen: they were in a Dwarven hall, with carved stone all around them. Their blades had clashed and then the dream had wormed its way into another. This time, Kyni was caught, immobilised by some unknown force. And Smaug was there, simply laughing at him. His laughs echoed around the cave. Then Thorin's face came swimming into focus, and cried out to Kyni,

"Why? Why did you not save me? You are not worthy to be called Dwarf."

That was when Kyni woke, with a cry of anguish, curling up into a ball, his hands cradling his head like a baby. Then his mine broke, and the tears came cascading down in his face. He rocked back and forth, not uttering a sound, his body shaking as his thoughts rushed through all that had happened: his capture, Smaug's twisted games.

And the last words of his father: " _Kyni... Forgive me._ "

These words sent a chill down Kyni's spine that did not abate for a long time. Sleep did not come to him again that night.

By dawn, Kyni had just about managed to gain control over his body and mind again. He spent the majority of his day wandering the great fortress that was Amon Lanc, taking in the majestic towers.

The Amon Lanc rose up off the hill with three main spires, rising high into the sky, piercing the clouds like swords thrust up to the heavens. The central spire stood higher than the rest and was also wider and more solidly built. This was where the great Elven Lord Celeborn had dwelt and lived, leaving the other two spires to his kinsmen. Now the main tower was where Radagast and Kyni lived.

The other two towers were given up to the birds that Radagast had a great affinity with. They roosted upon the many levels, and could be seen coming and going frequent and often.

Kyni liked to lean out of his window and close his eyes, letting the calls of the birds wash over him, as they sang of their journeys. It was like this that Radagast found him, on the morning of his first day at Amon Lanc.

"Your mind seems ill at rest."

Kyni turned to look at the ex-wizard. Radagast had a young sparrow cupped in his hand, and was gently stroking its head, as the bird chirped happily up at him.

"All shall soon be right," said Kyni stiffly.

"I find that the best way to clear the mind is to take comfort in the company of birds. Their lives are very much how your mind should be: free and -"

"Forgive me but I don't really care about your petty love for birds," interrupted Kyni.

The sparrow in Radagast's hands stopped its chirping. Answered pleasantly cheerful face suddenly turned to one of coldness. His eyes narrowed and seemed to pierce Kyni's very soul. The bird flew off past Kyni, straight through the window. That was when Kyni felt something enter his mind. It felt like a gentle caress and Kyni barely suppressed a shiver. It was an unnatural feeling.

Radagast was stood as still as a statue, except for his lips, which were softly murmuring inaudible words. His eyes were closed and he seemed to be concentrating. The something latched onto Kyni's mind. It seemed to apply pressure upon a certain point. He let out a faint cry of fear and surprise and then the pressure was gone. Kyni's mind slowly cleared and he felt fresh and his vigour renewed, as though he had been wiped clean.

"What, what did you do to me?" stammered Kyni.

"Nothing to be afraid of. I merely helped to dull the pain that you have been feeling. A simple trick, one which I normally use for my 'petty' love of birds." said Radagast, his face returning to its cheery self.

"I'm sorry for saying that. I did not mean it."

"It's quite alright!" chirped Radagast. "Now, I believe it is time for a spot of breakfast, then you must be on your way."

"On my way? Where to?"

"Why my dear boy, you didn't expect to stay here forever did you?" said Radagast, his eyebrows raised. "You must venture back to Thranduil's Keep in the centre of Mirkwood. It's not too far, plus I'll send you a guide."

"And who shall be my guide?" questioned Kyni.

"Hmmm," mused Radagast. "I shall give you a choice of three: a hedgehog, a deer, or a badger?"

Kyni stood dumbfounded. He had expected a person, not a selection of animals. He eventually recovered and gave his answer.

"I'll take the deer, if that's alright."

"Strange choice to me; I would've chosen the hedgehog. They're just so independent and great at-"

"I think I'd best get ready. You know, as you said that I was leaving soon," interjected Kyni, interrupting Radagast's train of thoughts.

"Of course, of course!" said Radagast brightly. "Go have some food. I shall meet you in an hour by the great doors."

After a breakfast lacking focal ingredients upon which Dwarves thrived (meaning mainly meat; as a friend of all manners of birds and beasts, Radagast forwent any animal food), Kyni went to meet his erratic acquaintance. He could not decide whether or not he liked the ex-wizard. It was not that he was unfriendly, in fact, the problem could easily be that he was over-friendly. He seemed to much prefer the company of birds and beasts to that of Men, Dwarves or Elves.

Yet he had taken Kyni in. He had given him a place to stay, whilst his mind reeled and reflected. And then he had fixed the broken fragment that was causing Kyni so much grief. He felt free now. "As free as a bird", Radagast would say. Kyni had to give it to him, that was how he felt. He felt he could sprout wings and fly off into the sunrise without a care in the world. But an inner voice brought him back to reality. He knew he could not be free. He knew his wings would melt away like wax under a burning flame as he neared the sun. He knew he would not be free until Smaug was defeated.

Kyni found Radagast sitting upon a flat stone in front of the gate, petting a grazing deer upon the head.

"Ah there you are. Good breakfast?" enquired Radagast, looking up as Kyni arrived.

"One of the best I've ever had," lied Kyni, eyeing the deer with uncertainty. "so that's my guide?"

"Yes. Kyni, meet Mena. Mena, meet Kyni."

The deer merely continued to eat grass.

"Not the most talkative animal perhaps, but she will guide you where you need to go." conceded Radagast, smiling fondly at Mena.

"Right," said Kyni, a little perturbed. "I guess this is goodbye then?"

"Until our next meeting, I should think so, yes," mused Radagast absentmindedly. "It has been a pleasure to know you, Kyni son of Frór."

"And you, Radagast. May the forest animals forever dwell in your heart, for there they are safe," said Kyni, surprising himself with his unexpected words.

Radagast simply laughed. Then, he lent down and whispered something in the ear of Mena, who raised her head with a start, looking directly at Kyni. Suddenly, she bounded off along the path leading down the hill.

"Better run after her, else you'll get lost," smiled Radagast.

Kyni nodded and jogged after the deer. Radagast looked on until both Dwarf and deer had disappeared down the hill.

"Yes, until we meet again," he murmured, before standing up and meandering his way towards the tower where his birds roosted.


	24. Chapter 24 Finding Your Way

Chapter 24. Finding Your Way

The hill ventured slowly down, opening up unto the great green forest of Mirkwood. Before long, Kyni was huffing and puffing in an attempt to keep up with the bounding energy of Mena. Every so often, when Kyni started to lag far behind, she would stop abruptly, as if some force was preventing her from going any further. She would then turn her head to look back at the distant figure of Kyni, with as much resentment as a deer can muster.

The trees gradually became more and more dense; their colours becoming darker and more vibrant, as Kyni and his guide wound their ways deeper into the heart of Mirkwood.

They passed thriving communities of animals, all going out their daily business. If Kyni wasn't so harried by Mena then he would've liked to have stopped and just listen to the merry sounds. Even in a rush, he could appreciate the general chatter that somehow harmonised together: the tweeting of the morning birds; the bounding of the rabbits all round; and the gentle chirping of the grasshoppers that could not be seen, but were making their presence well known.

Soon the sounds of the animals became less distinct. Kyni was puzzled by the reason, yet he chose to ignore it; despite the vigorous exercise, Kyni was actually quite enjoying the fresh air. After experiencing life-changing events in the depth of a dark, dank cave, he thought that he could finally appreciate the wide open world for what it was: beautiful, simple, and tranquil. His time in the Grey Mountains had opened his eyes to so much. He knew now that he must enjoy every second of his life, experience as much as possible, for it could all be snuffed out in a single second.

Captivated by his own thoughts, Kyni did not realise that Mena had disappeared through the trees. The hoot of a diurnal owl made Kyni jump and look around. That was when he noticed that he was lost, with no guide to lead him straight.

"Mena?" called Kyni, looking through the dense trees. They had wandered deep into the forest, and now the green foliage of the trees blocked out the streaming sunlight. Kyni repressed a shudder, only just realising how eerily creepy the forest was without light. The trees seemed to be closing around him, as Kyni began to stagger forward, all of a sudden feeling claustrophobic.

"Hello?" Kyni called again, hoping there was someone around to hear his desperate cry of fear.

How long he wandered he did not know. The trees never thinned, never gave any indication of where he was. For all Kyni knew, he could've been going round in circles. Even the animals, who had seemed to have been keeping Kyni company, had quietened, as though a great fear lay over them as well. The only sound Kyni could hear was the breeze, muted by the dense collection of trees. And another sound: a faint clicking that was slowly getting louder, as if something was creeping towards him. His hand indistinctively moved down to his hip, but he found that he had no sword. He'd lost his back in the Grey Mountains and Radagast had not given him one. Panic flared up inside of him. He cast his wild eyes around the forest floor, looking for anything to defend himself with. His gaze fell upon a sturdy branch, lying a few feet away from him. He shuffled over to it, and stooped to pick it up. The wood was solid, but he did not think it would survive many hits. Still, it's better than nothing, Kyni told himself confidently, turning to face the sinister noise.

Kyni steeled himself, ready to face some fierce, evil creature. The bush in front of him began to shake, as though something was quickly scuttling its way through. He raised the piece of wood, intent on smashing the creature before it had time to register him. But the creature, with a sudden burst of speed, came scurrying out of the undergrowth. Kyni recoiled in horror. It was a spider in essence, small but no doubt dangerous. Its skin was a sickly white colour that did not look natural. It bared its fangs at Kyni, rising back on its hind legs. Fear sparked Kyni to raise his weapon above his head, aiming to crush the spider's head, but quick as a flash, it let out a shriek that pierced Kyni's eardrums, and it darted off again, swerving artfully around Kyni's leg. Kyni turned quickly and brought his branch down. There was a crack, but the spider had easily avoided the swing, and disappeared into the blackness of the forest. A second later, there came the sound of feet, deftly moving through the bushes from whence the spider had come. Kyni turned, and saw two Elves, arrows notched in their bows, looks of utter shock etched across their faces as they regarded a panting Dwarf, with a now cracked branch in his hands. They raised their bows and drew back the string, aiming them at Kyni's chest.

"What are you doing here, Dwarf?" questioned one of the Elves, his voice drenched with suspicion.

"I-" stammered Kyni, completely lost for words. "You haven't seen a dear around here, have you?"

The two Elves looked at each other. "No," said the second Elf, slowly.

"Well, only I've gone and lost mine. She's my guide, you see."

The two Elves lowered their bows slightly, now evidently worried about the sanity of Dwarf. The first Elf lent closer to the other Elf and whispered in his ear.

"Do you think he's been poisoned by the spider?"

"I don't know," the second Elf whispered back. "Dwarf," he said, turning back to face Kyni. "Did you see a spider cross your path?"

"Yes, as a matter of fact," replied Kyni, indicating the direction in which the spider had gone. "It went that way. It moves quickly."

"Did it bite you?" said the first Elf flatly.

"No, it did not. It seemed more frightened of me than I was of it," explained Kyni, "look, I'm searching for Thranduil's Hall. My name is Kyni, and I was-"

"Kyni?" said the first Elf, sharply, his bow dropping to his side, "Kyni, son of Frór?"

"Yes, that's me. How did you know?"

"We thought... You'd best come with us. My name is Faríth, this is my brother, Feradir. Follow us, we shall guide you to the Keep."

The Elves said no more after that to Kyni. They beckoned for him to follow and nimbly picked a path out back the way they came. Kyni felt as though his footsteps sounded like an army of Dwarves in comparison to the Elves soft footfalls. Faríth and Feradir walked side by side, their heads tilted towards each other, whispering. Kyni caught the occasional word but it made no sense to him - he had never learnt the art of Elvish speech. All the same, the two Elves kept on throwing covert glances behind them, which left Kyni with no doubt that he was their topic of conversation.

He wondered what the Elves had thought. That he had become lost upon his quest? Or worse, that he had perished? He had to admit, he had no idea how long he'd been gone. His journey to the Grey Mountains had taken several weeks at most. But then he had been imprisoned by Grukk's for who knows how long. His flight through the tunnels must've lasted a long while as well. He wondered who else had survived the journey. None of his group had, or if they had they were surely being tortured or butchered by the orcs as penance for his escape. But what about the other group? A wave of guilt washed over Kyni as they trudged over the forest. This was the first time he had thought about Veorza. Or Idríl. His heart panged with a longing to know that she was safe. He felt heavy with shame that he had not considered her wellbeing since his imprisonment.

A sense of foreboding hung over Kyni now. What did the Elves know that he didn't? Or did they just suspect the worst had happened?

"Do you know what has become of my friends?" Kyni called to the Elves in front of them.

They glanced at each other, before Feradir replied. "Your answers shall all be answered once we reach Thranduil's Hall."

"Can't you at least tell me what became of Veorza? Or Idríl?"

"The authority is not given to us to be the bearers of such news," said Faríth. "Be patient, my young Dwarf."

They lapsed back into silence, as Kyni was guided through the forest. The trees began to thin slightly, as though they had been artfully felled. Kyni took this as a sign that they were finally nearing Thranduil's Palace. He steeled himself, determined to remain strong, even if the news received was ill.

Suddenly, before Kyni, their loomed Thranduil's Keep, with its sparkling towers. There was something unnatural about the way it had suddenly appeared without Kyni registering it from a distance. It did not appear to faze the Elves however, who continued to walk briskly forwards.

They were arriving from the West of the tower, so had to swing round to the North in order to access the walkway and enter through the large gates. Two guards stood at the entrance to the Palace. When they saw Feradir and Faríth they lowered the hauberks they had crossed over the entrance. If they thought about questioning the appearance of a lone Dwarf, they did not question it. Once the guards had opened the gates and closed them behind the trio, Faríth turned to Kyni.

"Wait here. We must report to Thranduil."

Kyni nodded his thanks and took to gaze around the high entrance hall. The inside of the Keep was just as decorative as the outside. Kyni had not had time to study the Palace when he had been here before: he'd spent most of his time recovering from his shoulder or discussing plans with Thranduil. His observations however were quickly interrupted, by the sound of flying feet.

Kyni turned just in time to see Idríl hurtling towards him, a look of utter happiness etched all over her face.


	25. Chapter 25 Explanations

Chapter 25. Explanations

Idríl launched herself into Kyni's arms, causing him to stagger backwards. He buried his face into her neck, as he hugged her back.

"I thought... I thought..." she whispered, her voice trembling.

"I know," said Kyni softly. "But I'm fine. Honestly, I'm fine."

They broke apart, and Kyni smiled up at her.

"What happened to you though? After we got separated I lost all contact with your group."

"Well we started off fine," began Idríl. "but then the path took us deeper and deeper into the mountain. Then-"

"I think that that story can wait," came a sharp voice from further down the hall. Kyni looked past Idríl and saw Thranduil striding towards them, his robes rippling majestically with each stride. Walking briskly behind him was his advisor, Tairdan. "What's more important is what happened to you?" continued Thranduil. "And where's Thorin?"

Kyni took a few moments to compose himself before replying. "My Lord, Thorin is dead."

Dead silence met Kyni's words. Idríl gaped at him, whilst Thranduil's pace slowed as Kyni's words dawned upon him.

"How?" asked Idríl, her voice full of sadness.

"A goblin by the name of Grukk. But he was only following orders. The true murderer of Thorin Stonehelm, King Under the Mountain, was the son of Smaug the Terrible."

No one had anything to say in reply. Tairdan stared in disbelief at Kyni, his eyes narrowed, whilst Idríl looked down at the floor with her eyes closed, taking deep breaths.

"There's something else," said Kyni, catching everyone's attention again. "I, I met my father."

"What? Where is he now?"

"He's dead," choked Kyni, as remorse welled up inside of him. "Dead by no other hand than my own."

"What do you mean by this?" snapped Tairdan, signalling the guards by the door. Kyni turned and saw their hands move down to the swords girt at their sides, gripping the hilt.

"Smaug made us fight each other, for his and his servants' amusement. My father was not right. He did not recognise me, even when I identified myself. His eyes were an unhealthy colour, as if they were burning. I had no choice, I had to. He wouldn't stop pushing the fight, I had to-" Kyni's voice broke. Tears began to roll down his cheeks as his body shuddered.

"Kyni, no one blames you," said Idríl softly, moving towards him. Kyni backed away from her.

"I do, I blame myself. Now because of me, my father is dead and so is Thorin. I should've let myself be killed. I would've been doing the world a favour."

"Don't talk like that," said Thranduil, crisply. "Thanks to you, we now know who our enemy is. If what you say is true, then there was nothing you could do for your father."

"What do you mean?" asked Kyni, looking up at Thranduil.

"What you described is known as the Dragon Sickness. It consumes a person, drives them insane. They forget who they are, what they are and anyone they know. Do not blame yourself, he was beyond your help."

"But he obeyed Smaug. He attacked when he told him to attack-" started Kyni.

"Smaug is a dragon. We do not know how they work but my guess is that they have can enter the mind of those afflicted with the Dragon Sickness. The sickness makes them more akin to the fire-breathers, who are constantly plagued with it. The sickness is part of dragons; that is why they are greedy and foul."

Thranduil's words felt hollow to Kyni. His story sounded twisted, as though it had been constructed solely to appease him. He was about to argue back when Idríl spoke.

"He's right, Kyni," she said kindly. "Stories of the Dragon Sickness are known to most Elves and Dwarves. Come, we will find Veorza and he will clarify it for you."

"Where is he? I feared the worse when he was not here."

"He is in the infirmary. He's... Come, it is best if we just show you." said Idríl, extending her hand to Kyni. He took it, and together they wandered through the many halls of Thranduil's Keep, not speaking, but taking comfort in each other's presence.

They reached the infirmary, and Kyni was led over to the bed where Veorza lay. His eyes were closed, and his chest rose and fell lightly under the covers.

"Is he asleep?" asked Kyni.

"Nay, lad. Merely resting." Veorza's eyes slowly opened and he propped himself up against the frame of the bed, grimacing slightly at the movement. "Well, I have to say," continued Veorza. "It's nice to see you alive and well. Forgive me for not getting up."

"What happened to you?"

"Well, as you can see," said Veorza, throwing back the covers. "My leg was violated."

Kyni gasped. Underneath the covers, Veorza's leg laid bare. It was a sickening yellow colour, tinged with green. What looked like bite marks started at the thigh and ended at the shin. Pus was oozing from the wound, mixed in with a pungent smell of blood.

"What-"

"A bastard of wyvern," said Veorza, shifting slightly. "It grabbed me by the leg. I would've gone over the cliff if Idríl hadn't grabbed me. Still, being the rope in a tug-of-war between a wyvern and a She-Elf is not my idea of fun."

"So you were attacked as well?" said Kyni, addressing both Idríl and Veorza.

"We were," answered Idríl. "By wyvern outside the tunnels of the mountain, then goblins once we were inside. We had no choice but to retreat back the way we came when we got swarmed by orcs. That was when Veorza got bitten."

"Luckily the beast took an axe to the skull. I never managed to thank that Dwarf," mused Veorza.

"He's dead, Veorza," said Idríl. "An arrow through the neck. It happened just after we pulled you back up."

"Pity. He deserved a longer life. Now, where is Thorin?"

Kyni opened his mouth to speak, but Idríl spoke first.

"Veorza," she said, softly. "Thorin perished. He died at the hand of Smaug the Second."

Veorza eyes flitted between Kyni and Idríl for several seconds. His eyes appeared to glaze over.

"I see," he said gruffly. "And what became of Smaug?"

"He lives still," replied Kyni. "I'm sorry, Veorza, Thorin's death was my fau-"

"No," interrupted Idríl, curtly. "None of this is your fault. You must stop blaming yourself."

"Listen to Idríl, lad," said Veorza. "I doubt there was anything you could've done. You managed to escape - that is better than nothing. How did you escape, as a matter of fact?"

"I ran. Ran for what seemed like days through the tunnels of that mountain. Then a great eagle bore me away to safety. Radagast the Bro-"

"Radagast?" cut in Thranduil. "he saved you?"

"Well, yes. The eagle took me to him and then he let me stay with him before giving me a guide to lead me here."

"Where is he staying? Long have we wished to know." enquired Thranduil, moving closer to Kyni.

"I," began Kyni, before stopping. Something in the back of his mind was telling him not to divulge Radagast's location to the Green King. "I do not know. He never told me, nor did he let me see."

"How did you not see?" said Thranduil.

"I was blindfolded as soon as I landed. It was only after I'd entered Mirkwood that I was allowed to take it off."

Thranduil surveyed Kyni's face, looking for any signs of misgiving. Kyni wondered what was going on between Thranduil and Radagast for the King to be so suspicious.

"Very well," said Thranduil eventually. "It seems as though we owe a debt of gratitude to Radagast. But enough of that. We shall discuss it some other time. Right now we must discuss our next move."

"Next move?" asked Kyni, puzzled.

"Yes. You can't expect us to sit idly by whilst we know that a dragon lurks dangerously within the Grey Mountains. We have no choice."

"What are you talking about, my Lord?" said Idríl.

Thranduil turned to face her. "We're going to take the fight to him."


	26. Chapter 26 The Old Road

Chapter 26. The Old Road

They left Thranduil's Keep three days later. It had been agreed that Veorza would accompany them as far as Erebor, where they intended to stop on the way. Accompanying Idríl and Kyni, was Thranduil, at the head of two battalions of armour-clad Elves, all seasoned warriors expecting war. Thranduil had left Tairdan in charge of his realm, something which gave Kyni an ominous feeling. Yet he did not voice it - his relationship will Tairdan was rocky as it stood; there was no need to unhinge it further.

They departed at dawn. The wind was already picking up, blowing harshly to the South.

"An ill omen, I tell you," Kyni overheard one of the more superstitious Elves tell his friend. "Even the wind is telling us to abandon this quest."

"If the wind truly wanted us to abandon this quest, then it would try harder," answered Thranduil coldly. "If you or any of your friend feel craven then, by all means, return to the Keep. We won't stop you. But this quest cannot be forsaken. If it is, then Mirkwood will surely perish."

His words were met with silence. Yet no Elf turned tail and ran back to Thranduil's Palace.

Kyni had to admit though that as they slowly marched north towards Erebor and ultimately the Grey Mountains, the wind did seem to grow stronger and stronger.

"Let us hope the wind does not pick up anymore, or some of these Elves might be blown away," chuckled Veorza to Kyni in a low voice, as to not be overheard.

Veorza's mood did not seem to have been much affected by the death of Thorin. Kyni remembered how distraught and enraged he had been at the death of Ràsarc: that flaming fever that had festered in his eyes. For the first time, Kyni thought back to his father in the arena. His eyes had burnt with a fiery glow. Both Veorza's and Frór's eyes had wild and untamed. Was grief the key to the dragon sickness? Grief that was left to fester in the heart of the stricken? Veorza had found solace after their encounter with the orcs, but Kyni's father had presumably not found any. His illness had been moulded by Smaug in a way that bent Frór to the dragon's will.

 _No,_ thought Kyni, _there had been a difference. Frór's eyes may have burnt in a similar way, but his had been a sickly yellow colour; Veorza's had merely burnt with passion and vengeance._

"How's the leg?" Kyni asked Veorza.

Veorza had been given a makeshift walking stick to hobble along on. Occasionally a grimace would pass over Veorza's face but he quickly masked it. Kyni had to admire the Dwarfs resilience and pride.

"A lot less painful than when the bastard first latched onto me."

"We can both boast surviving direct combat with a wyvern now," said Kyni, flexing his shoulder where his healed wound lay. The wound had not hurt Kyni nearly as much as it had expected. He supposed he'd been running almost indefinitely on adrenaline since the fight.

"What a tale we'll have to tell our kids," joked Veorza.

"Are you married, Veorza?" enquired Kyni.

"Nay, lad, I am not. There was one woman but... she's gone."

"What happened?"

"War will make corpses of us all. That is all I will say."

They marched on, old memories stirring within Veorza. _The War of the Ring_ , thought Kyni, _something must've happened then._

Kyni tried to imagine what it would be like to lose a loved one in war. Then he realised: he had lost one. Thorin. He had grown close to him without realising. They had been kin, both descendants of Durin. And now he was gone, which left Kyni the last surviving member of the line of Kings. A worrying thought suddenly struck him.

"Veorza, what happens when we get to Erebor?" asked Kyni.

"I've been thinking about that myself," said Veorza, turning to look at Kyni. "As Thorin had no heirs, you are the rightful ruler of Erebor. However, they do not know you're alive, so-"

"They know," interjected Thranduil. "I've instructed Tairdan to send a raven ahead of us."

"I do not know if I want to be a King," said Kyni slowly.

"Then I do not know what will happen. As Thorin's advisor, Hrafen is probably in charge at this time. It is best if we speak to him."

"Is there no one else eligible to rule?" asked Kyni.

"Not that we know of," said Veorza, shaking his head. "Thorin had no sons to speak of. The only two other possibilities apart from you are Gimli, who is known to have sailed to the Undying Lands; and Dwalin, the last surviving member of Thorin Oakenshield's Company."

"Where is Dwalin now?" asked Kyni.

"No one knows. After the death of his brother, Balin, in Moria, he was overcome with wanderlust. He has not been heard from since."

"Then he is unlikely to be capable of ruling, either," concluded Kyni, deep in thought.

The prospect of being a King was a foreign one to Kyni. He had never contemplated that he was second-in-line after Thorin. He had no notion how to rule, or what was expected of him if he was on the throne. The idea scared him more than he cared to admit.

Their path eventually took them east out of Mirkwood, following the Old Forest Road that led them across the Running River. The path then curved northwards, leading them along the edge of Mirkwood before eventually reaching Erebor. The company stopped frequently, deciding that being well rested was more important than haste.

"We need to act fast and catch the enemy unawares."

"Nay, there is no sense in rushing in. We have a big fight ahead of us and we'll need all our strength if we are to prevail."

"Yes, but the enemy will be expecting us to do that..."

They were seated around a large fire at night, less than a day away from Erebor. Kyni was listening in to a conversation between a group of Elves. Half were for sticking to the current plan, whilst the others believed it to be more prudent if they were to march straight onto the Grey Mountains.

"We are not strong enough on our own," said one She-Elf. She was respected amongst the ranks of Elves as one of the few women to rise in the ranks. Kyni heard whispers of her unchallengeable prowess in battle. "We need the strength of the Dwarves if we are to be victorious."

Many Elves murmured their agreement and Kyni couldn't help but agree with the She-Elf. He'd witnessed how easily their forces were decimated upon the paths to the Grey Mountains. The Dwarves had seemed more sure-footed along the paths. If they were to survive, they would need a strategy of dispelling the attacks of the wyverns. _Unless we could draw them out into the open_ , thought Kyni. He drifted off into a dreamless sleep, still attempting to formulate some sort of plan.

They broke camp at dawn as usual. Spirits seemed higher before as the mountain of Erebor grew bigger and bigger before their eyes. Kyni was walking at the front, with Veorza alongside him. Behind them walked Idríl and Thranduil, followed by the battalions of Elves.

As they neared the great doors, they saw lone figures stood outside. As they neared, they heard a shout from one the scouts, who darted into the halls. Outside waiting for them, were Geise and Hrafen.

"Veorza," said Geise gruffly when they finally arrived at the great doors, moving forwards to embrace his friend.

"It has been too long, my friend," said Veorza, firmly clasping Geise by the shoulders.

"We feared the worse when we had no word from you," said Hrafen, looking at Veorza and Kyni. "If it had not been for the raven from Tairdan, then we would have still been in utter turmoil when you arrived."

"How are things here?" asked Kyni.

"Bad," admitted Hrafen. "People are still mourning the loss of Thorin. I have been doing my best to keep the Kingdom in shape, but I am no ruler. Enough of that however. Come, welcome back to Erebor!"

Hrafen signalled to two Dwarven guards by the doors, who opened the aching doors to allow the company to enter. As Kyni stepped through the doors, he noticed two people, taller than the Dwarves, standing there, smiling at him.

He blinked.

"Mum? Dad?"


	27. Chapter 27 Harrowing Memories

Chapter 27. Harrowing Memories

"Hello, son."

"What are you doing here?" said Kyni, moving forwards to embrace his mother.

"Hrafen sent word," replied Freda. "He explained that you were missing." Freda pulled away from Kyni, holding him by the shoulders. Kyni noticed that her eyes were glistening dangerously with unshed tears. "We thought that... that you might be dead."

"Luckily the raven arrived a few days ago, which put us at peace. Since then we've been learning more about the Dwarfish way of life waiting for you to arrive," said Elboran, smiling as he clapped Kyni on the back.

"It's nice to see you," said Kyni, smiling at both of them in turn. "I meant to send word during my travels but things got problematic and-"

"You'll have to tell us all the full story later, Kyni," interrupted Hrafen. "For I'm sure most of the Dwarves here, myself included, would like to hear what has happened. Right now though, it is time for lunch."

"Lunch?" asked Kyni, "it's not even midday yet."

Hrafen grinned. "Aye, early lunch then. Come on, Kyni, you may have been raised by Man, but you're still a Dwarf at heart, with a Dwarf's stomach. Come, follow me."

Hrafen led them to the main hall, which was unchanged since Kyni had last been there: two long stone tables ran parallel with each other down the length of the hall, with stone benches accompanying them. At the far end of the hall, a set of stairs led up to a raised floor, where a stone throne could be seen. Dotted along the stone benches, sat an assortment of Dwarves, some with black beards, some with brown, and the very occasional yellow beard. As Kyni entered the hall, the entire room stopped their small talk to look at him and his companions. Word had evidently spread since the raven had arrived. Kyni saw a wide variety of faces: some were branded with content, others were burdened with sorrow. More just showed pity.

Hrafen turned to Kyni. "They've all heard rumours of what transpired since you left," he whispered, making certain none of the seated Dwarves could hear. "That is part of the reason why I wanted to come here straight away. Kyni, these people deserve to know the full story. They need to know what happened in your journey. Most importantly, they need to know why you are still alive and Thorin is not."

Kyni gulped. He did not like the idea of addressing a room full of Dwarves, half of who were hostile towards him, and the other half didn't look like they had the heart to deal with any more sorrow.

"Your kinsmen need you, Kyni," interjected Veorza, placing a hand firmly on his shoulder.

"Okay," nodded Kyni. "I'll do it."

The walk to the front of the hall was excruciating. Every eye in the hall followed Kyni. He kept his eyes locked on the far wall, refusing to be intimidated by the stares. Kyni finally reached the stairs and walked up them, looking at the stone throne. It was ornately carved, with many Dwarfish runes engraved around the edges. _This must've been where Thorin sat_ , he thought to himself. Kyni turned around and faced the hall. He did not like having every eye trained on him.

He took a deep breath, and spoke. "Many of you know me," he croaked, before clearing his throat and continuing. "Yet to the few who don't, I am Kyni, son of Frór. I came here in search of my father. What most of you don't know, is that..." he took a deep breath. "Is that I found him."

Muttering broke out all through the hall. Dwarves could be seen turning to their neighbours, speaking in hushed voices about this unexpected piece of news.

"I know that this may come as a shock to most of you," continued Kyni, raising his voice to be heard above chattering of the Dwarves. "It was a shock to me as well. I went in search of him with a heavy heart, expecting the worse. When I found him, it was even worse than I could have imagined. He was not dead when I found him. However, he is now. By my hand."

Outrage followed his words. Dwarves cried out in anger, standing up from their seats to hurl words at Kyni.

"Murderer!" shouted one yellow-bearded Dwarf, slamming his fist down on the table.

"Kinslayer!" yelled another, pointing an accusing finger at Kyni.

Kyni turned to Veorza, who had joined him on the platform, along with Hrafen. Kyni pleaded silently to the two Dwarves, seeking some end to the insults that were being thrown at him. Though Veorza had not known the fate of Frór, he knew that there was no way Kyni would have killed his father in cold blood.

"SILENCE!" roared Veorza. The booming sound of his voice echoed around the hall, cutting the Dwarves curses short. They grudgingly sat back down, no longer heckling Kyni. Yet in their eyes there still burnt a fury.

"Before you pass judgement upon me, please let me tell you all that has happened since I last left Erebor," said Kyni. When no Dwarf raised an objection, he began.

He explained how they had reached the Grey Mountains, only to find themselves divided between two paths. How he and Thorin had ventured down one, whilst Idríl and Veorza had gone the other way. Then came the attack of the wyverns on the narrow path, where they lost most of their battalions. He described how they reached the cave and had a few seconds of safety, before they were taken unawares from deeper inside the cave. He attempted to illustrate the fear he felt when at the mercy of the orc Grukk, with his blood red eyes and yellow-toothed grin. And then came the fight. When he mentioned the dragon, Hrafen interrupted him.

"A full grown dragon? How?"

"A descendant of Smaug the Terrible," said Kyni gravely.

His words were met with silence from the Dwarves.

"And that's where I found my father. As a thrall of Smaug. I was forced into an arena with my own father, Smaug's champion. In a fight to the death." a shiver washed over Kyni as the memory washed over him. The brutal fight, the unfair advantage his father had over him.

"What happened?" asked Hrafen, quietly.

"Some illness lay over my father. He obeyed Smaug's every command. The Dragon Sickness, Thranduil believes."

All heads turned towards Thranduil who stood framed in the doorway. His face was grim, but he nodded his firm agreement.

"Then you had no choice," said Hrafen, comfortingly.

Kyni nodded. "I suppose. Either way, I drove my sword into my father's chest and watched him die in front of me."

Once again, the Dwarves in the hall had no words. No more did they look angry. Instead, their eyes were ones of pity. A few even had tears rolling down their cheeks into their beards.

"And what of Thorin?" called out a brown haired Dwarf near the front of the hall.

"He was Smaug's captive," answered Kyni, "we struck a deal: if I won, Thorin could go free. If I lost, well... You can guess."

"But you won? So what happened? Did Thorin go free and die on the way?" asked Hrafen.

"Yes, I won. But Smaug's definition of freedom was different to what I believed. He let him drift free into the afterlife."

"So our King was murdered by the dragon," said Geise, angrily.

"Geise..." warned Hrafen, stepping towards his angered kin.

"No, Hrafen," replied Geise, rounding on Veorza, "you have coddled me with your words for too long. The time for talk has finished," Geise then turned to address the hall at large, raising his voice, "The time for talking has ended. It is time that we took revenge. I know most of you harbour sorrow within your souls. Use that sorrow. Turn it to hate. Let it fester inside you. Let it slowly consume you, until all you feel is hatred for the witless worm that has slain your King."

"Geise!" exclaimed Veorza, grabbing him by the arm. But Geise wrenched his arm free, still preaching to the hall. Veorza turned, helplessly, to look at Hrafen. Hrafen merely shook his head.

"So it comes down to this: who would like to stay here in our sturdy halls of stone, planning and scheming? Or who would like to forgo caution and fight?!"

There came a roar of approval from the Dwarves in the hall. They all rose as one, clamouring for war, throwing their fists into the air.

"My fellow Dwarves," shouted Geise over the din. "Grab your swords! We march on the Grey Mountains."


	28. Chapter 28 The Battle March

Chapter 28. The Battle March

 _"It is he who has brought this upon us, He who murdered his own father in cold blood!"_

 _Kyni whirled round wildly. Geise was stood upon the podium where he himself had recounted the story of his battle with the dragon. Geise's sword was raised above his head, as he shouted down to the roaring Dwarves below him._

 _"This pretender would have us believe that he had no choice, that the dragon played some trick," shouted Geise. "But I think not. I think that this usurper wants the throne of Erebor to himself!"_

 _"No!" cried Kyni, running forwards, past the angry Dwarves to join Geise on the podium. "I truly had no choice. It was kill or be killed. You have to believe me!"_

 _The Dwarves continued to roar at him, like lions whose pride had been threatened._

 _"Please," begged Kyni in a quiet voice._

 _"Enough!" Rumbled Geise, silencing the Dwarves. He then turned to Kyni. "draw your sword, 'your highness'."_

 _"W-What?" stammered Kyni, backing away from Geise._

 _"Let us settle this the old fashioned way," said Geise, drawing his own sword from its scabbard. "Let us see if you really were strong enough to defeat your own father, or whether you stabbed him in the back. Like a coward."_

 _"I don't want to fight you, please," pleaded Kyni, backing up further until his back hit the wall._

 _Geise laughed. "I'm afraid you have no choice." And he charged._

 _Kyni just had enough time to move sideways and draw his sword before Geise was upon him. His blade slid down Kyni's, sparks flying everywhere._

 _"Geise, stop it! This is no way to settle this!" shouted Kyni, shimmying away from the advancing Dwarf._

 _"It is the only way to settle it," snarled Geise. He took a swing at Kyni. He ducked in time, and slashed back with his blade, causing Geise to take a step back._

 _A laughter could be heard in the back of Kyni's mind. A quiet, throaty laugh that sent shivers down his spine. The sound grew and grew until it was all Kyni could hear. Geise continued to advance towards Kyni, experimentally swinging his sword this way and that. Kyni blocked, parried, and ducked each stroke. The laughter now echoed around the hall, rumbling through the very foundations. It was a deep, evil laugh, one which sounded familiar to Kyni._

 _Geise took a swing at Kyni's midriff. He brought his blade up to parry it away but he found that his sword had vanished. Instead, he now held a thin piece of wood. Geise's sword sliced clean through the wood and cut deeply across Kyni's stomach. He cried out and fell to his knees, his hands moving instinctively to his stomach to quench the flow of blood._

 _The laughter grew louder and louder, ringing in his ears._

 _"Make it stop," he moaned, scrunching up his eyes against the pain of the laughter._

 _"Gladly," came the deep, growling voice of Smaug. Kyni looked up. Geise was still advancing towards him, blade raised. Yet behind him, the shadowy face of the dragon could be seen, looming out from the wall, his eyes burning bright. He leered down at Kyni._

 _"Kill him."_

 _Geise raised his sword in two hands, the point directed at Kyni's neck. Kyni bowed his head again and shut his eyes._

 _"Forgive me, father," he whispered, before the blade plunged through the soft flesh of his neck._

Kyni woke, the memories of his dream still fresh upon his mind. He shuddered, reliving the despair he'd felt. He knew it had just been a night terror, yet he could not help feel a certain worry that some Dwarves may blame him for his father's and Thorin's deaths. He would have to be wary today.

Geise had not marched on the Grey Mountains straight away. Hrafen had managed to convince to at least wait a day before striking, giving them the needed time to make preparations. The battalion of Elves, led by Thranduil and Idríl, had been stationed in one of the deep caverns, well out of harm's way it seemed to Kyni. Dwarves still did not trust the Elves, especially not Thranduil, who some Dwarves still held a bitter regard for. The story of the history between Thorin Oakenshield and Thranduil, King of the Woodland Realm had been passed down generation to generation. Though friendship had been kindled, some resentment still remained. Some Dwarves, those whose ancestors had perished in the wrath of the dragon blamed Thranduil, for he had refused to help, letting turmoil rain down in Erebor. Kyni was sent down to rouse the Elves at dawn, but to his surprise, the cavern was empty. He returned to inform Geise, who merely grunted.

The Elves were all marshalled outside the main gate. Clad in gilded silver armour, they shimmered impressively in the early morning sunlight. None shined more brightly than Thranduil, who was adorned in silver battle armour. Tiny sparkles could be seen glinting out from within the breastplate. On his head sat a silver circlet, inlaid with green emeralds.

"Are they-" began Veorza, staring at the circlet.

"The emeralds of Girion, yes," replied Thranduil. "They were forged anew so that we may never again forget the closeness between Men, Elves and Dwarves."

"The people of Dale certainly do not forget it," came a voice from behind the Elves. They parted, allowing a collection of people to walk forwards. To Kyni's surprise and delight, he noticed Bard leading the procession, clad in leather armour, his black bow clenched in his hand.

"It is good to see you, Kyni," said Bard, smiling at Kyni.

"And you, my liege," replied Kyni, stooping to bow.

"I am sorry to hear about your father, my friend," spoke Bard softly.

"Thank you," said Kyni, smiling thinly at the Lordly archer. "How did you know our plans?"

"I sent word as soon as Geise had his little outburst," put in Hrafen. "I thought that the Men of Dale would understand the danger we face."

"Wouldn't want to miss a fight like this now would we, lads?" came a call from one of the men within the Dale company. There came an answering roar from the Men.

Bard shook his head. "Blood-thirsty, the lot of them."

"Good. We need men longing for their swords to be stained with the blood of the enemy." said Geise, walking out from the shadow of Erebor. "Kyni, are you ready?"

"I think so," said Kyni, firmly.

"Then let us depart. Dwarves!" called Geise back towards Erebor. There came a rhythmic sound of heavy footfalls and clanking metal. Out from under the great doors, came an army of Dwarves, all clad in chainmail. They each had a sword girt at their sides, as well as a halberd slung across their backs.

"Don't Dwarves usually don helmets?" enquired Bard.

"Change of plans," answered Geise, grinning wickedly. "I want our enemies to see the eyes of every Dwarf before they plunge their blades into their hearts. Come, onwards! Veorza, why are you not clad for battle?"

The solitary figure of Veorza had only just been noticed by the company. Thick bandages were wrapped around his leg, and he hobbled towards them, grimly shaking his head.

"I can scarcely walk, let alone fight."

"I understand, my brother," said Kyni. "Know that your war has already been fought, and that no more is expected of you."

Veorza bowed his head in gratitude.

They turned to leave, before a voice came crying out from inside Erebor. "Kyni, wait!"

Kyni turned, to see his mother and father hurriedly moving towards him.

"Freda, Elboran! What are you doing here?" Exclaimed Bard, utterly bemused.

Kyni's parents ignored him. Instead, they embraced Kyni, hugging him tightly.

"Be careful, son," said Elboran softly.

"Make sure you return to us, won't you?" pleaded Freda, looking Kyni dead in the face.

"I will, mother," promised Kyni, smiling up at her. She kissed him on the forehead, before standing back.

"Go, your friends are waiting for you," said Freda, gesturing the awaiting companies.

"Goodbye," said Kyni. He turned and left. The last thing he saw was Elboran wrapping his arm around Freda, as she turned into his chest, tears running down her cheeks.

And so the three races of Middle-earth departed. The Dwarves, clad in their rattling chainmail; the Elves, in their dazzling armour of silver; and the race of Men, in their outfits of boiled leather.

"There's no turning back now," sighed Hrafen, turning to look at the Lonely Mountain one last time.

"You'll see it again soon, don't worry," comforted Kyni, slapping Hrafen on the back.

"I hope so. Aye, I hope so, lad. For all our sakes."

Veorza's words slowly sunk into Kyni: it was not only their lives that were at risk. If they were to fail, if they were to lose the ensuing battle, then there would no home to return to. No home for the Elves in Mirkwood, no home for the Men in Dale. And no home for the Dwarves, in their ancient halls of stone.

If they were to fail, Erebor would be destroyed for a second time.

The cave was eerily quiet. The only sound that could be heard were the soft footfalls of a harried Orc. Grukk was concerned, a feeling he wasn't all too familiar with. He briskly walked down the tunnel, taking a left and then another left. He'd grown up in these tunnels; he could never take a wrong turn, even if he tried. The green light of the torches cast a glow, guiding Grukk's way. His eyes had grown accustom to the darkness of the caves many years ago. He smiled, remembering the panic the Dwarf had shown when trying to navigate his halls.

Grukk took a finally right turn, arriving in a cavern much larger than any other part of the Grey Mountains. In front of him, curled up on the floor, was his leader.

"Your Magnificence," said Grukk, bowing low.

"What is it, worm? You disturbed my slumber," growled Smaug.

"Apologies, my liege. I have news that I thought may interest you."

"Oh? And what news is this?" asked Smaug, raising his head to look at Grukk.

Grukk swallowed. "The Dwarf, Kyni. He lives."

"This does not come as a shock. I trust you have not disturbed me just to share this unsurprising news?"

"Well, your malevolence, my scouts report that he's marshalling an army."

Smaug uncurled himself, and began to slowly crawl towards Grukk, who took a few hurried steps back. Smaug moved right up to him and engulfed Grukk in smoke.

"Good. Good," mused Smaug. "tell me, who else is in this army?"

"The D-Dwarves, Elves an-and Men," stammered Grukk, his eyes as large as saucers.

"History is repeating itself..." said Smaug, more to himself than the terrified Orc. "Very well. Grukk?"

"Yes, your Lordship?" replied Grukk, standing to attention.

"I want you to rally your kin. We will meet them on the field."

"Very good, my Lord. May I go now?"

"Yes, go now. Get out of my sight."

Grukk turned to leave, before Smaug called after him. "One more thing."

"Yes, O Smaug the tremendous?" said Grukk, turning back with dread.

"Bring yourself and nine of your best fighters to me afterwards. I have something special planned for you pitiful creatures."

Grukk bowed, and half ran, half walked back down the tunnel.

Smaug chuckled to himself.

There would be no dawn for the free people.


	29. Chapter 29 Fight For Freedom

Chapter 29. Fight for Freedom

"Archers, Loose!"

The shimmering Elves let their arrows fly and the approaching Orcs fell like flies. Yet still they came, wave after wave. As soon as one was defeated, it was replaced by more. All clamouring, all vying for blood.

The free-people had marched with haste towards the Mountains, hoping to attack before the enemy had time to prepare. They had reached the fields below, when they had heard a great horn, booming down from the Mountain. And that was when the very walls of the Mountain had opened up. A great crack had appeared, growing larger and larger, until the stone fell. Through the dust and rubble, came the Orcs. It had been them who had caught the free-people by surprise. They were set upon before they had time to properly muster their forces. The Dwarves, hardy by nature, had sprung forward to engage the Orcs and felled the first waves. Then they were driven back by the dark arrows of the Orcish archers.

Now the Dwarves stood out of range of the archers, with the arches of Dale and Mirkwood behind them, firing volley after volley at the advancing Orcs.

"Whatever happens, we must hold this line!" Roared Bard, firing an arrow between the eyes of an Orc.

Kyni stood with his kin, his sword drawn and at his side. The occasional Orc survived the onslaught of arrows but were smote down by the armoured Dwarves.

Several hours past, with waves of Orcs being smashed by Men, Elves and Dwarves. _Is this it?_ Kyni thought to himself, _is this all we have to contend with?_

"Where is Smaug? Where are the Wyverns?" said Hrafen, who stood next to Kyni. He seemed to have had the same thought as Kyni.

Kyni turned round to face Thranduil. "My Lord," he shouted, making his voice heard over the sounds of battle. "We must push forwards. The Orcs have opened up a way deeper into the Mountain. We cannot pass up this opportunity."

Thranduil nodded his agreement. Kyni turned back to the front and spoke to his kin, "We must push forwards! We are too exposed out in the open. March into the Mountain!"

As one, the Dwarves began to slowly progress forwards, hacking and slashing any Orcs in their way. The Men and Elves followed, launching arrows into the swarming Orcs. Their arrows now reached the mouth of the cave, where the devilish Orcish archers were finally felled. Their crude bows were no match for the strength of the longbows Men and Elves wielded.

That was when there came a screech. A screech that filled Kyni's heart with dread.

"Turn your bows to the skies!" roared Kyni back at the Elves and Men, keeping his shield up against the Orcs whilst craning his neck to look up. A cry of dismay was heard from the Company. The Wyverns had come.

At least thirty Wyverns could be seen flying down from atop the Mountain. Kyni squinted upwards, the sun impeding his vision. Some of the beasts seemed to be bearing some manner of things upon their backs.

He caught a gleam of red, and his heart lurched.

"Orcs! Orcs riding Wyverns!"

Panic ensued. Men, Elves and Dwarves alike broke rank, as the Wyverns dived and cleaved great gaps in their defences. Arrows started to rain down from the Orc-riders. Some of the Men of Dale returned fire, but their arrows clattered harmlessly against the hardened scales of the beasts.

"Aim for the eyes, the eyes!" shouted Bard, notching an arrow and aiming. But before he could let loose the Orcs broke the ranks of the disorientated Dwarves. One ran forwards and swung his rusted blades at Bard, who just managed to avoid the blow. Dropping his shoulder he barged into his assailant, sending him staggering backwards.

"Draw your swords, men!" ordered Bard, slinging his longbow across his back and drawing his short sword. Men on all sides of him followed suit, and soon the air was ringing with the sound of metal against metal, as the Men rushed forwards and helped the Dwarves. Half the Elves drew their Elven blades and rushed forth as well, whilst the others hung back and peppered the sky with arrows. One arrow found its mark, piercing a Wyvern's eye. It came crashing down from the sky, spiralling towards Kyni.

He saw it just in time. He dived to the side, rolling to avoid the flailing wings. He skidded across the battlefield, knocking Dwarf and Orc down alike. Kyni rolled over and let out a cry of fear. A Wyvern was heading straight for him, with an Orc upon its back. Kyni caught another gleam of red and realised he was looking directly at the leering face of his tormentor. Grukk.

The Wyvern extended its sharp talons. Kyni rolled to the side and heard the talons scrape his side. His body convulsed in pain, yet he rolled over again, now panting heavily. He managed to stagger to his feet and wheeled round. Grukk was flying directly at him again, intent on his prey.

That was when Kyni spotted his sword on the ground, thrown from his hand when he had dived to avoid the falling Wyvern. He was defenceless. He knew that he had no way of protecting himself. He closed his eyes and waited for the inevitable.

"No!"

Kyni's eyes flew open at the sound. He saw Geise jump in front of him, his halberd raised. The blade pierced the Wyvern's chest, in between its scales. It let out a scream of pain as its wings spasmed. Geise's halberd snapped in half, as he was thrown onto his back. Once again, Kyni had to dive out of the way to avoid the Wyvern. He found his face inches away from his sword. He picked it up and whirled around, his face set and determined.

The Wyvern lay dying upon the ground, Geise's broken Halberd still embedded within its breast. Out from under its wings, appeared Grukk.

He was no longer grinning. His shoulder was bent awkwardly. He pushed hard against it and Kyni heard the sickening sound of it popping back into its socket. He rolled it around, clicking his neck as he did. He stepped out from the carcass of the Wyvern, limping slightly. Then he drew his swords. In his right he held his crude black blade, whilst in the left…

Kyni gave a start. He held Kyni's dagger, the one his mother had gifted him. Rage engulfed Kyni.

Grukk laughed, raising Kyni's dagger, "A pretty blade, I'll give you that. It would look prettier through your heart though, I wager." The two enemies simultaneously walked towards each other.

The ensuing fight was over as quickly as it had begun. Grukk swung first, his injured leg putting him off balance. Kyni avoided the black blade and spun round Grukk, reversing his grip upon his sword. He plunged the blade deep into Grukk's back, feeling it slide and pierce his heart. Grukk let out a gasp of death's breath, as Kyni slid the blade out and spun back round. He flipped his sword back to the regular grip and swung. Grukk's head came flying off, landing amongst the dead bodies of Dwarves and Orcs.

The headless body of Kyni's tormentor crumpled to the ground at his feet. He let out a sigh of relief. He stooped down and picked up Freda's dagger from the deceased Orc and slid it into his belt. Then he turned round and went to check on Geise.

He found him on the floor, panting heavily. A heavy splinter could be seen protruding from his shoulder. Kyni dropped to his knees and pulled. The splinter had been deeper than he realised. It came out, releasing a spurt of blood as it did. Geise grunted in pain. He then grasped Kyni's hand and Kyni pulled him back onto his feet.

"Thank you," panted Geise, retrieving his sword from the ground.

"No, thank you, Geise," said Kyni, looking deep into the Dwarf's eyes. "I did not expect you to risk your life to save me."

"I was Frór's ward, boy, or do you forget? You are his son, and therefore his legacy. I am honour-bound to defend you."

Kyni stared long and hard into Geise's weathered face. Not a muscle twitched, as Geise's hard eyes gazed back. Finally, Kyni nodded. "We must rally our kin and push on to the Mountain." He said.

Geise grunted his agreement. Together they entered the fray again, calling to their kin as they did. The Men and Elves followed, as the Dwarves began to slowly move towards the cave entrance, their shields raised.

"Nice to see you're still alive!" shouted Geise, when they spotted Hrafen. Blood splattered his face, yet he still managed a grin.

"It'll take more than this to kill the likes of you or me."

The magnitude of Orcs had lessened a bit. Their bodies littered the fields, alongside the deceased Dwarves and Elves and Men who had given their lives for freedom. Those few Orcs who remained had turned and fled back into the Mountain. Only a few Wyverns remained in the sky, a stray arrow occasionally finding a way through their scales to pierce their flesh.

Kyni led the army of Dwarves and found himself on the very edge of the entrance to the Mountains where he had killed his father. Other Dwarves joined him, and soon he was at the head of twenty Dwarves chosen to root out any surviving Orcs. Anymore Dwarves and moving through the tunnels would've been difficult. Torches were lit to guide their way, whilst the Elves and Men stayed at the cave entrance, guarding the way for any Orcs who may attempt a counter-attack.

"Kyni, be wary," warned Bard, his eyes sliding across the skies. "Smaug has not yet showed his ugly hide. He is planning something."

"Any sign of trouble, and do not hesitate to retreat into the mountain. It is your best chance of survival if Smaug chooses to appear."

With that, Kyni, followed by Geise, Hrafen and their loyal followers of Dwarves, were swallowed by the darkness of the caves.

The cavern sloped upwards, and the Dwarves were waylaid by the occasional Orc on the way. They hid in the shadows, letting out a cry of shock when torchlight fell upon them. The Dwarves dealt with them easily enough. The Orcs were not hard to track. Some left trails of blood behind them, whilst others could be heard crying in fear and panic in the distance.

They made their way steadily forwards, winding this way and that, following the trails of blood. They round a corner and found themselves in a larger cavern than before, with light from outside spilling in. The last remaining Orcs stood there, framed against the natural light.

"This is where it ends," said Kyni, slowly moving forwards.

"I'm afraid not, my dear Dwarf." Kyni's heart froze. Out from the shadows, came Smaug. The Orcs began to laugh. Their laughter rang throughout the cave, echoing off the stone.

"Where are the rest of your people?" asked Smaug, "is this all that is left to contend with my will?"

"This is simply a fraction of our remaining army," said Geise, taking a step forwards, regardless of the imminent danger before him. "The rest remains outside the Moun—"

"Geise!" shouted Kyni. But too late. With a roar, Smaug let loose a bout of flame. With a cry of horror, Kyni and the rest of the Dwarves instinctively hid behind what little cover they could. However, Geise had found none.

When the fire and smoke had cleared, Kyni found himself looking down upon the pile of ash that had once been Geise. He looked up into the mocking face of Smaug, who smiled in the twisted way only a dragon can.

"So the rest of your people await me outside. So be it. I will let my minions take care of you," said Smaug. "If you survive, make your way down the Mountain again. And watch as I burn everyone and everything you have ever loved."

Smaug let out a laugh that shook the very stone of the Mountain. Then he took flight, leaving Kyni and his Dwarves facing Orcs twice their number.


	30. Chapter 30 Smaug

Chapter 30. Smaug

They were upon them before Smaug's parting words had fully dawned on them. Two Orcs ran at Kyni, who avoided their blows and skipped past them, his back now to the cavern's outlook. All around him, Dwarves were backing away slowly, unable to find attack when being beset by at least two Orcs. Geise had slain one of his opponents already and was making quick work of another, the fiery hatred burning bright in his eyes again.

Kyni backed towards the opening, his two Orcs advancing menacingly at him. The one on the right snarled at him, bearing his yellowing teeth – they were sharp and pointed and looked as dangerous as the black blade in his hand.

"Ready to die, scum?" croaked the Orc.

"Not today," Replied Kyni, drawing his dagger. He spun his sword round in his hand thrice, before walking forwards to meet his foes. The left Orc swung high and Kyni ducked and sidestepped, challenging the second Orc. Kyni swung low yet found his blade deflected, as he was forced back again by a flurry of swings. Kyni was now panting, sweating running down his forehead. He knew there was no way he could take them both at the same time; he needed some way of separating them.

This time, however, they did not give him respite. They attacked together, as a unit, swinging their swords at the same time. Kyni dodged one slamming his shoulder into the off-balance Orc. At the same time he parried the blow of the other Orc, knocking his blade aside. Kyni quickly thrust with his sword, but the Orc just managed to bring his blade back across his body to defend himself. Quick as flash, Kyni's dagger came in from the other side and pierced through the Orc's neck. It fell to the ground, just as the other was dragging itself from the floor where he had ended up. Kyni did not give it a chance to get back on its feet. He quickly stepped over to the dazed Orc and plunged his sword into its chest. It let out a wail which was quickly quenched, as the blood drained from his body. Kyni wiped his forehead with the back of his hand and ran to help his fellow Dwarves.

He came up behind an Orc that was about to deal a death blow to a defenceless Dwarf upon the ground. Kyni drove his sword through the Orc, before turning to face the others. There were few left. Corpses were littered around the heavily breathing Hrafen. Kyni watched as the last of the Orcs was dispatched with a fell slash of a Dwarven blade.

They had lost two Dwarves. They lay on the floor, blood pouring from their wounds. One was still alive. Kyni knelt next to him and took his hand in his.

"What's your name, soldier?" asked Kyni, softly.

"V-v-vígark, m-my-my lord," replied the Dwarf, coughing up blood.

"You thought well today, Vígark," said Kyni, placing his hand upon his chest. "Be at peace, and know your name shall be remembered."

Vígark coughed up more blood. However, when death finally came and claimed him, a look of peace was upon his face.

"That was a lordly thing to do," said Hrafen, wiping his bloodied blade upon the body of an Orc.

"He deserved to greet the afterlife at peace. I only did what was right," replied Kyni, sliding his blade back into its scabbard.

"Aye, I'm not faulting you for that, lad, you did the right thing," agreed Hrafen. "But only a true leader knows how to send a fallen kin with a feeling of serenity in their hearts."

"Hrafen," said Kyni. "Now is not the time for this debate. Smaug's threat still looms ever large. We must get down below."

"For what purpose?" asked a gruff voice behind Kyni. A Dwarf, caked in black blood, was leaning against the cavern wall. "On the ground we are at the mercy of Smaug. His fire will coat the land in flames, just as it did last time a dragon terrorised our lands. You saw what happened to Geise – no power can match that flame."

"We have to do something!" Anger flared in Kyni. He pushed aside the vivid memory of Geise burning, instead focusing on the image of Smaug.

He advanced towards the Dwarf, pointing a finger out to the sky. "Your kin are out there. Men and Elves as well. What do you intend to do? Hide in here whilst Smaug burns all you have ever loved to the ground?"

The Dwarf did not reply. He stood in a shocked silence as Kyni turned to the rest of the Dwarves. "If we stay here, yes we will live, but we shall also die. We will be hunted. Hunted until only one of us remains. And then that lone survivor will be tormented until their soul has been hallowed. This is why we must fight."

"There is no hope of vict—" started the bloody Dwarf.

"Better to die sooner than late," Interrupted Hrafen, placing his hand firmly upon the Dwarf's shoulder. "For die we must."

The Dwarf looked into Hrafen's face. He gulped. And nodded.

"So what's the plan?"

All eyes turned to Kyni. He opened his mouth to reply, but no idea had formed in his head. He closed his mouth and bowed his head.

"Our noble leader lets us down." said the bloody Dwarf, sarcastically. Hrafen rounded on the Dwarf, but before he could speak, there came a great whoosh of air.

"Perhaps we may be of assistance?"

Kyni turned. Three eagles stood in the mouth to the cave. The wind whistled around them and their feathers rippled. The middle Eagle stood taller than the rest and seemed to be greater in stature. Kyni approached him cautiously, recognition stirring within him.

"You rescued me," ge said.

The Eagle bowed its head in response. "I am the same. I named myself Thoron-lim when we last met, for that is what I was to you. Perhaps I can retain that name."

Kyni turned to face the surviving Dwarves. They looked with awe upon the Eagles, their eyes wide. He turned back to Thoron-lim, and nodded.

"Climb onto me," said Thoron-lim, lowering his wings for Kyni to step upon. "I shall gift you with the privilege of climbing, rather than being caught this time."

Kyni smiled grimly and climbed on. He enveloped his fingers in the Eagle's feathers, letting the softness comfort him.

"Two may ride upon my comrades."

Kyni turned to look at Hrafen. He nodded at Kyni and gestured to the bloody Dwarf. "You," he said. "You have the honour of flying out with us. Time for you to pay for those ill words."

The bloody Dwarf opened his mouth to complain but shut it quickly under the stern gaze Hrafen gave him.

Once they were all mounted, Hrafen spoke to the remaining Dwarves. "Go back down the tunnel. Hide in the mouth. If it is safe then venture out and pull the wounded to safety. Otherwise stay put. Do you understand?"

They nodded and murmured their agreement. Hrafen turned back to the front and looked at Kyni. There past a grim understanding between the two of them. There was no way back now. Either they or Smaug, were about to perish.

"Hold tight, young Dwarves." With that, the three Eagles took off from the ledge.

The ground was black. Smoke surrounded Kyni, as the Eagles spiralled lower. His eyes began to water and his throat was dry. The occasional orange and red flame caught Kyni's eye upon the ground. Fear consumed him. Where were the others?

They heard a roar. Out of the blackness, came the great wings of Smaug.

"Up, Thoron-lim, up! We are blind in this smoke!" shouted Kyni. A great spurt of flames came flying towards him. With a great call, the great Eagle climbed higher, missing the flames by inches. The two other Eagles, along with their riders, flanked Kyni as they climbed higher. The smoke became less dense and Kyni found he could breathe easier. His relief was short lived. He felt the heavy pounding of wings and found himself face to face with Smaug. His eyes glowed dangerously.

"I see you've found a way to face me in the air," growled Smaug. "let's see how well your precious Eagle can fly."

Smaug rolled his body back and the scales on his chest shone bright.

"Move!" cried Kyni, tugging upon the Eagle. Thoron-lim strafed to the side, as a bolt of fire erupted from Smaug's mouth. The bloody Dwarf and his Eagle flew forwards. The Dwarf's blade was raised, as he closed in. Smaug was oblivious to his movement.

Another shriek pierced Kyni's ear drums. Out of nowhere came a Wyvern. It caught the Eagle with its claws, driving it away from Smaug. The bloody Dwarf let out a cry of surprise and he was thrown from the back of his Eagle. Kyni watched, as if in slow-motion as the Dwarf was swallowed by the blackness of smoke. The Eagle and Wyvern remained locked in combat, writhing and contorting as they gauged at each other with their beaks and sharp claws.

"Kyni!" called Hrafen, hovering to Kyni's right. "We have to keep moving. Get on his blind side!"

"You heard him, Thoron-lim, fly!"

The Eagle flew up, as Hrafen flew sideways, going round Smaug. Smaug let out a roar of frustration and beat his gigantic wings, strafing backwards. His tail whipped round and almost caught Hrafen in the chest. He ducked just in time, but the force still buffeted the Eagle away. Smaug caught a glimpse of his movement and turned to face him. He shot a burst of fire and the Eagle moved to avoid it. However, the fire caught hold of the Eagle's wing. Flames began to spread along the Eagle's wing, as Hrafen cried out in fear. Smaug let out a low laugh and dived towards the injured Eagle.

"NO!" shouted Kyni. Madness took hold of him. "Thoron-lim, take me above."

"I do not advise—"

"JUST DO IT!"

The Eagle flew up obediently, as Kyni watched in horror as Smaug drew closer to the helpless Hrafen. He was batting away the flames furiously, as the burnt Eagle tried with all its might to fly away. But the fire had cut into its flesh; it was expending all its energy in just staying afloat.

They were now directly above Smaug. He opened his mouth, bearing his teeth.

"Tell my mother I'm sorry," said Kyni. Then he jumped, plunging down towards the great Dragon, his sword readied.

His sword broke as soon as it hit the Dragon. The wind was swept out from his body as he hit the scaly backside of the Dragon. Shattered pieces of his blade cascaded down the armoured back. Smaug's head snapped round and Kyni once again stared into the eyes of his worst enemy.

"Your measly blade cannot harm me," said Smaug. He began to beat his wings, sending himself and Kyni higher and higher into the sky, his previous prey forgotten. "My armour is too thick. There is no weakness upon my body."

Kyni attempted to stand as Smaug took him still higher.

"There is one."

Kyni dived forwards. He drove his dagger deep into the Dragon's eye. Smaug let out a roar as the dagger plunged further into him. Kyni held on for dear life, as Smaug's body twisted in the air. Then his wings were no longer beating and Dragon and Dwarf began to fall in unison.

Kyni closed his eyes. He let Smaug's screams fill his ears. His body still twisted and writhed yet Kyni held onto his dagger, driving still deeper into Smaug's eye. That was when a stray wing hit him. His dagger was ripped from his hands as he was thrown backwards by the force. He watched as Smaug's body continued to twist. He watched his shiny scales shimmer past him as he fell backwards. Then Smaug's flailing tail caught him in the head and he remembered nothing more.


	31. Chapter 31 Aftermath

Chapter 31. Aftermath

The soft murmuring of voices surrounded Kyni. His eyes remained closed as his mind slowly regained its senses. The gentle sound of the breeze whistling could be heard as well, swirling around the soft voices. The mere fact that Kyni could hear was of great comfort. He was dazed, but through his hazy memory, he could remember the fight with the Dragon; and the fear he had felt. His hands scrunched up, enjoying the feeling of the soft fabric he was lying on.

"He moves," said a quiet voice.

"Kyni?"

Slowly, very slowly, Kyni opened his eyes. The light was dazzling. His eyes fluttered several times, attempting to adjust to the light. Salty tears began to appear at the corners of his eyes.

"Are you in pain?"

Kyni managed to make out a figure standing over him through his watering eyes.

"My Lord, are you in pain?" repeated the figure.

"No. No, I'm fine. The light just burns."

"You've been extremely lucky."

As his eyes adjusted to the blinding light, a familiar grinning face swam into focus.

"Hrafen!" exclaimed Kyni, sitting up a bit too quickly. He suddenly felt very dizzy and Hrafen had to slowly lower him back down.

"Steady, lad. You've been through a lot."

"Where am I?" asked Kyni, looking around. Two Elven guards stood sentry at a door opposite his bed. Even before Hrafen answered, he could've guessed.

"You are back in Mirkwood. You needed Elven healing."

"Healing? Why?" asked Kyni, puzzled.

"Do you remember what happened, Kyni?" said Hrafen, his voice returning to its gentle tone.

"I remember fighting with Smaug. I remember jumping onto his back to save you and I remember…" Kyni's voice trailed off as the memories came back. Stabbing Smaug in the eye. Getting thrown off before Smaug's tail catching him in the head.

"You were injured, Kyni," Said Hrafen. "Smaug's tail smashed into the side of your head. I saw it. You flew backwards, buffeted by the flailing wing of Smaug. Then his tail whipped round and caught you. You tumbled down and down, unconscious."

"How did I survive?"

"Your Eagle friend caught you. You have friends in high places," grinned Hrafen. "Either way, you were not at your best. Smaug's blow had left a swelling lump upon your head. Your hearing had been impaired and your eyesight would've been weakened, if it had not been for the healings of Thranduil."

"So, I'm fine?" asked Kyni, surprised.

"You are not perfect," admitted Hrafen. "Your hearing will be less acute than usual, and you may suffer from chronic head pains once in a while. Other than that, you are fine, yes."

Kyni thanked Manwë. His wounds could've been a lot worse. The two Dwarves settled into a comfortable silence.

"What happened to Smaug?" Kyni asked, suddenly.

"He is dead," replied Hrafen, bluntly.

"Dead?"

"Yes, dead. Your dagger and the fall were enough to slay the firedrake. Speaking of which," said Hrafen. He reached round to the back of his belt and drew Kyni's dagger. He set it upon Kyni's bed, next to his hand. "Cleaned and sharpened. It was the least I could do."

Kyni grasped the hilt tightly in his hand. His thoughts turned to his mother.

"What of the others? My parents, Hrafen, Bard? And Idríl…"

"They are all safe," comforted Hrafen. "Your parents stayed safely within Erebor until word reached them of Smaug's death. Bard's shoulder was ripped apart by a Wyvern and it is unknown whether he'll ever be able to wield a bow again."

"Can I see them?"

Hrafen hesitated. "You may soon. Though Idríl may be more difficult to reach."

"What do you mean?"

"She was injured in the fight. I know not how, yet she has returned to Rivendell, to be healed by her own Elven kin. I am sorry, Kyni."

Kyni's heart felt as though it had been stabbed. An awkward silence settled over them, as Hrafen looked down at Kyni with sympathy.

"I must inform the others you are okay," said Hrafen, turning to leave, "you'll be alright on your own, won't you?"

Kyni nodded.

"Get some rest."

Kyni lay there for what felt like hours. He drifted in and out of sleep, but each time his dreams woke him up in a cold sweat. He dreamt of the decaying body of Smaug coming back to life; of Idríl lying dead in a pool of blood; and of Erebor and Dale, burnt to the ground.

"Kyni?"

He opened his eyes again. Thranduil stood before him, not a scratch upon his body. His silver cloak billowed behind him as he smiled down at Kyni. Behind him stood Tairdan, a cold look still upon his look. Veorza was there as well, along with Hrafen.

"We all owe you a great debt, Kyni, son of Frór. The Dragon has been slain by your hand and shall never terrorise us again."

Kyni did not know how to respond. He nodded and attempted to smile but his smile felt hollow. Thranduil saw his discomfort and quickly changed the subject.

"What you need is rest. My healing has righted you as much as I can but only time can heal the rest."

"Thank you, your Grace."

Thranduil bowed and swept out of the room. Tairdan opened his mouth to say something to Kyni, but seemed to think better of it. He quickly followed behind Thranduil.

"How do you feel, laddie?" asked Veorza, moving up to Kyni's bed.

"Better than I did, thank you," replied Kyni.

"I know this is not the proper time," said Veorza. "But we need to talk. About Erebor."

"What about it?"

"We need a ruler."

"I sai-" began Kyni, but Veorza held up a hand to silence him.

"I know what you have said. That you do not want to rule, but there is no one else. I am no ruler, and even if I was, I have no claim to the throne. You are the only one who can."

"What about Dwalin?"

"We have sent out emissaries to search for him. They journey to all the major Dwarfish dwellings – Khazad-Dum, the Blue Mountains and so on – but do not trust to hope. It was more likely that he has perished."

"I have no desire to rule," said Kyni.

"We know this, but you must think about what is best for your people."

Kyni paused. "I shall think on it."

"Thank you, Kyni," Said Veorza, bowing. "I shall now leave you to rest."

Once Veorza was gone, Hrafen pulled up a chair and sat, watching Kyni.

"You do not have to guard me, I will not do anything foolish," joked Kyni.

Hrafen laughed. "As much as I would like to leave you, I cannot. My place is by your side, until you are healed."

"Thank you, Hrafen. You are a good friend," Kyni hesitated, "what would you advise I do?"

"About ruling Erebor?" said Hrafen and Kyni nodded. "It is a difficult one. I do not feel as though you should do anything you do not want. Yet there is no other legitimate ruler."

"Why must it be me? Aren't we all of the Line of Durin?"

"We are, yes, but the right of rule belongs to the line of Thráin and none other."

"Perhaps it is time to change that law," mused Kyni.

Hrafen nodded. "You are probably right. But for now, rest. I shall watch over you."

Kyni smiled at Hrafen and then closed his eyes. Yet sleep did not come for a while. His mind was too busy thinking and planning.

When dawn came, Kyni had only had a few hours' sleep at most. However, he now had a plan. He looked over to see Hrafen dozing in the chair, his head slumped on his chest.

"Hrafen," said Kyni softly. When that did not wake him, Kyni spoke slightly louder. Hrafen woke with a start.

"What time is it?" he grumbled.

"Just past dawn," said Kyni. "Hrafen, I have made my decision."

"I shall go inform Veorza," said Hrafen, slowly stretching and getting out of his chair.

Hrafen appeared soon after. "Well, Kyni? Hrafen says you have made a decision."

"I have. I shall rule Erebor."

Hrafen clapped Kyni on the shoulder. "Excellent, I shall send word to Erebor. We shall-"

"And my first action as the King of Erebor," interrupted Kyni. "Is to change the law of ruling. From now on, the King can pass on his Lordship to any Dwarf of the line of Durin."

"But, my Lord-"

"And I wish to pass my Lordship onto you, Veorza," said Kyni firmly.

A stony silence settled over them. Hrafen stared down at Kyni, not sure whether to be angry or shocked.

"My Lord, this is highl—"

"Are you not of the Line of Durin?"

"Yes, but—"

"So with that, I leave the rule of Erebor with you. You can inform the Dwarves that that is my decision."

"But, my Lord-"

"Come, Veorza," said Hrafen. "Let us hasten to Erebor and leave Kyni to rest. I think he has earned it." There was a certain tone evident in Hrafen's voice as he finished. A tone that suggested that they owed Kyni this last request.

Veorza seemed to swallow his words. "Very well, if that is your wish, Kyni, then I shall respect. There will be papers to sign, but that can wait."

"Thank you, Veorza. Now, I think I would like to return home."

"Can you walk?" asked Hrafen, concerned.

"I expect so. It is my head that was injured, not my legs."

They grinned at each other, remembering the cold words of Tairdan the last time Kyni had been in Mirkwood.

Kyni experimentally got up out of his bed. A wave of dizziness hit him but he powered through it. He found his belt and scabbard at the foot of his bed and he tied it around his waist. He marched past the two Dwarves without another word.

Navigating the halls of Thranduil's proved a lot more difficult without a guide to follow. They turned this way and that, and Kyni was soon lost. He sighed with exasperation.

"And what are you doing wandering these halls?"

Kyni turned, and saw Tairdan standing in a doorway. His grey eyes seemed to pierce Kyni's.

"I was trying to find the way out."

"Allow me to show you." Tairdan gestured for Kyni to follow him. Wary as he was of Tairdan, Kyni followed.

"How do you feel, Dwarf?" asked Tairdan, making conversation.

"Better, thanks to your King."

"My King was not the only one to heal you."

"Who else tended my wounds?"

"I did," replied Tairdan.

"Why? You have never liked me. You're always cold towards me."

"You saved us from a greater danger than you could possibly imagine. Of that, I am grateful. As for my distaste of you, do not take it personally. I dislike all Dwarves. As far as they go, you are not the worst I have met."

They walked the rest of the way in silence. They eventually arrived at the great silver doors of the Keep and Tairdan bid Kyni farewell.

"Goodbye, Kyni. I trust you will not get lost now?"

"I'm sure I'll manage. Goodbye, Tairdan. And thank you."

Tairdan bowed stiffly, and walked off.

Kyni crossed the bridge and to his surprise, he found Thoron-Lim asleep upon a nest on the ground.

"You are awake. This is good," said the Eagle, seeming to have sensed Kyni's arriving.

"What are you doing here?"

"I was waiting for you. You rid us of our greatest enemy, we do not forget. I thought I could offer you one last flight, before I return to my home."

"I also wish to return home. I would greatly appreciate your offer."

"Then climb on," replied the Eagle, finally opening his eyes. He stretched his wings and lowered himself, allowing Kyni to climb on.

"Thoron-Lim?" said Kyni.

"Yes, my dear Dwarf?"

"What's your actual name?"

The Eagle laughed. "My name is Landroval, greatest of the Eagles of the North, second to only that of my brother, Gwaihir. And from now on you can count me as friend."

And with a few steady beats of his wings, Landroval launched himself into the air, carrying Kyni back home, back to Dale.

His mind passed over all that had been lost, all that had been sacrificed, to save Middle-Earth. The Dwarves of his closest kin that had been killed for her safety: Geise, Ràsarc, Thorin, and the countless others he'd never known the name of. He realised just how much he had changed throughout his journey. Intent on finding out about his father, he had never registered the effect it had had on him. How it had changed him, moulded him into a King that he now was. He began to doubt whether he had made the right choice in letting Hrafen rule.

But then his thoughts turned to that of Dale. Where his mother and father awaited him. Where Kyni felt at peace. And then he realised: he did not need to be anyone's legacy; he had created his own family of Men, of Dwarves, and of Elves. The free people of Middle-earth. HraH


End file.
